The Rain
by Team McAdams
Summary: Set during the first year of their marriage, Eomer and Lothiriel face some difficulties that will test their marriage. ( Rated R for some smut later on! ;) )
1. Promises

> A/N; My first serious Lothíriel & Éomer story. Please review! Really.. That would rock my socks. Takes place sometime during their first year of marriage.  
  
- _Elegant Couture_.  
  
Disclaimer; Whateva, I do what I want.
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> The cold wind whipped the cloaks of Rohan's Queen, her dark hair flying dramatically behind her as she stood upon the balcony. In the distance, a thunderhead rolled in from the mountains, and by the low rumble that accompanied the dark clouds, she could tell it was going to be a rather formidable storm. Lothíriel slowly wrapped her arms around herself, trying to keep warm as she held her vigil for the safe return of her husband.  
  
It had been three weeks to the day that he had set out with a company of his men. The threat of Orcs had driven the Riddermark's King in to battle again, and every soul in the Golden Hall had known of the Queen's displeasure. She closed her eyes, envisioning their last day together.
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> "It shall not be long, you are simply over reacting." Éomer glared at her, his arms crossed over his chest. "I survived the War of the Ring.. Think you I shall not last a small scuffle with starving, leaderless, pathetic orcs?"  
  
But Lothíriel would not turn to look at him. Her back was stiff as she rested her palms on the window sill, rain beating gently against the glass.  
  
Éomer had been prepared for her anger, but not this unbending stubbornness. He had faced his sisters tough will, but Lothíriel was even worse. He quietly crossed the empty space between them and slid his arms around her waist. He could feel her give in slightly, her posture slipping just a bit. "You are a cold hearted man, Éomer King."  
  
And then she turned, with tears in her eyes, and fled the room, leaving her wounded husband to stare at her retreating back.  
  
It was several hours later that she had returned to their chambers, only to find them empty. It did not surprise her for many of Éomer's advisors had stopped her to relay the typical message; "His Majesty has gone to the tavern."  
  
She knew this routine well. He would return smelling of ale within the next few hours, and by then Lothíriel would be fast asleep.  
  
But this night, everything was different. Tears flowed unchecked, disappearing over the curve of her cheek and into the pillow. She curled up on her side of the bed, hoping that when her drunk husband returned, he would see how hurt she was that he would needlessly throw himself in harms way. Had he not had enough of blood shed? And what if he did not return _at all_? As she sniffled and choked down another sob, she missed the sound of the opening door and her husbands steps.  
  
As soon as his arms were around her, she didn't have the energy to pull away. She pressed her face to his chest, tears melting in to the fabric as she sobbed harder.  
  
"Lothíriel.." He ran his hand through her hair, desperate to soothe her heartbreaking cries.  
  
She pulled back from him suddenly, though her hands were still grasped to his shirt. "You cannot leave me too.. _You cannot_!"  
  
He ran his fingers over her cheeks, wiping away the tears that lingered. "Not even death could stop me from returning to you." He whispered as he pulled her back into his arms.  
  
"Éomer.. You do not know.." His lips on hers stilled her words, and she closed her eyes. "Death is such a strong force, it will take you from me!"  
  
"Tell me, what is it that troubles you so?" He held her close, and he could feel her press her face to his shoulder.  
  
"At one time, I loved another.. Gethain, He was a Swan Knight of Dol Amroth, a second son of a well known noble family. He was my best friend since child hood.." She stopped and gently pulled back from his embrace, so that she could sit up. His face was calm, as he sat up as well, his hand reaching out to caress her hair.  
  
"Go on.." He whispered.  
  
A sad smile took to her lips. "We used to play on the beach.. He would put sand in my hair. I loved him, and he loved me. Our parents were pleased, but he was older than I and so my father wished for me to wait until I was older. Then the war came.. He joined Faramir at Osgiliath and.." She hesitated, her breath catching in her throat. Éomer closed his eyes, knowing what was to be next. Osgiliath had been doomed from the start. "Faramir knew of my affections, and so he tried to save Gethain but it was hopeless. His family.. I.." She covered her face, sobbing. "His family never even received a body for a proper funeral!"  
  
"Do you still love him?" He whispered, gently rubbing her cheeks, his breaking for his wife.  
  
"I.. I do not know. I do not love him the way I love you. He was my first love, but not my greatest." She let her shoulders slump, her body weary from her emotions.  
  
He pulled her into his arms, supporting her.  
  
"I lost Gethain, Boromir, and so many friends.. Now, in this time when we should have peace, if I lose you.."  
  
"You shall not." He gently laid her down, his lips covering hers in a soul searing kiss.  
  
He had left the next morning, and she had taken his role of King. She was surprised at how much he had to do everyday, and so she had been stuck in trade talks and meetings for the majority of his absence, but at night she felt it keenly. How she missed him.. She had received only a brief note since he had left, one telling her that everything was going '_quite well,_' and that he would '_be home before she even began to miss him_.'  
  
And so, on her free time, her maids found her standing on the balcony, facing the west and hoping that she would see the army, safe and victorious.
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> "My Queen? Dinner is ready.. Will you not come in and eat? The King will surely have my head if he returns to find his wife malnourished and ill!" Erfanaiel, her personal maid, stood at the door of the balcony watching her mistress.  
  
Just as she turned, she caught a flash of something. Rain had begun to lightly pour from the darkening skies, and she pressed herself to the railing for a closer view. She saw it again, the flash of armor, as riders became visible across the plains. Her fingers gripped the wet rail, her heart racing. "Erfanaiel, they are returning!"  
  
Her maid was quickly at her side, and laughing happily as she saw the approaching host. Her husband had left with the king as well.  
  
"Alert everyone that the King has returned, and that beds should be prepared for any injured. Be sure that there is plenty room in the hall for their feast, no doubt they are tired and hungry. Also, make sure that the healers are waiting.." Erfanaiel nodded and hurried away, while Lothíriel continued to watch the approach. A slight frown was set upon her features.. They were making such haste! "I do so hope nothing is terribly wrong.."  
  
It took them but a few hours to arrive, and Lothíriel was eagerly waiting at the stairs of Meduseld. The rain had arrived with them, and it was near torrential but it bothered her very little. She watched eagerly as the front arrived, but she did not spot her husband. Éothain was leading them, and as he hurried demounted, he did not look at her.  
  
"Éothain?" She cried as he turned around, and his voice overtook hers.  
  
"Bring the King forward, hurry!"  
  
Lothíriel nearly fell over as she hurried to them, her hands grabbing to Éothain's arm.  
  
"What has happened? Where is Éomer?" She screamed as she watched the men part and a makeshift cart was brought forward. Lothíriel gazed in horror at her husbands pale face and the bright red blood that he was covered in. Éothain grabbed Éomer and hurried up the stairs to the halls of healing. The rest of the men respectfully bowed to the Queen as they took their horses to the stables, and Erfanaiel took her Queen's arm and began to drag the shocked women back to shelter from rain.  
  
"I command you to let me in!" She screamed as Erfanaiel stood by her, trying to restrain her queen. Éomer had been immediately taken to a private room where the healers were seeing to him, and strict order had been given to not let anyone in. Not even the Queen.  
  
"I cannot, my lady. I wish that I could.." The soldier looked terrified of the petite, beautiful woman. Erfanaiel gently began to nudge Lothíriel away from the door, trying to lead her back to her chambers. Lothíriel was hysterical, her sobs heard throughout the hall as she finally allowed herself to be lead.
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> An hour later, she found herself in bed taking broth. She had already begun to come down with a severe cold, a combination of the rain and her hysterical state.  
  
Her maid sat her desk, quietly pinning a letter to Imrahil and Lothiriel's brothers, asking that they come to support her should the worst happen. She hesitated when she began Éowyn's letter.. Perhaps she should wait until more was heard. Turning to look at Lothíriel, Erfanaiel gave a short sigh of relief as she saw her mistress had finally taken to sleep. She knew the healers had mixed a heavy sedative in with her broth, so they would be able to work on Éomer without distractions.  
  
She rose quickly when there was a knock on the door, and she slumped with exhaustion when she found it to be her husband, Éothain.  
  
"I came to check on you both.." He whispered as he took her in his arms. "How is the queen?"  
  
"Asleep.. The healers gave her a sedative. And Éomer?"  
  
He shook his head grimly. "It does not look good.. We had just finished helping a village and we had already destroyed a large amount of the remaining orcs. But the ones left ambushed us, and they attacked Éomer as if he was the only soldier."  
  
He kissed Erfanaiel's forehead, resting his face in her hair. "I do not know what I should do if I lost you.." She whispered.  
  
He kissed her softly and gave her a small smile. "Keep watch over the Queen, I am going to go check on Éomer."
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> A/N; Well? Reviews will encourage me to continue this. It's gonna be short.. Maybe two or three chapters long. Let me know what you think!


	2. Awakenings

> A/N; Ohmygosh! You guys overwhelmed me with your reviews!! I was so inspired because they were so great that I immediately started on the next chapter. Say.. Does anyone else picture Lothíriel as Keira Knightley? More specifically, her version of Guinevere? I don't know why.. But after seeing King Arthur, that's how I picture Lothíriel. Could just be me, though. ;)
> 
> So anyway, enjoy, because here is the next chapter! 3
> 
> Responses;
> 
> lady scribe of avandell - Thank you!! I hope this is quick enough for you!
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> A A - Thank you so much!
> 
> ME132 - I am SO glad you like it! I won't answer that question, you'll have to keep reading to find out! .
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> Eokat - Thank you!!
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> Katzilla - Ohmygosh, thank you so much! I think I will make it a bit longer than I planned..
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> razzle dazzle - I am so glad you like it and that it makes you want to keep reading.. That really encourages me!
> 
> Spacepirate (spacepirateeyahoo.ca) - Oh I can promise you that it's going to get much angstier before it gets better. And I agree, we need more Lothíriel & Éomer fics!
> 
> Kathleen5 - Thank you SOOO much!! I was never a big fan of the "Yay for the no evil world!" type fics.. There always has to be some evil. But that's just my philosophy. And PJ definitely should have put that in there.. As well as the Houses of Healing and I think he should have made a brief appearance of Lothíriel, but oh well, that's just my wishful thinking!
> 
> Voldie on Varsity Track - Fears the headless chicken of doom! Please don't kill me!! I update, I update! 33
> 
> Anyone else; Sorry I didn't get your review while I wrote this, but do know that I appreciate it 100%!!! Thank you so much everyone!
> 
> - Elegant Couture / Shealy
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> Erfanaiel started when Lothíriel finally stirred, her hand accidentally knocking over a glass as she jerked from her sedated sleep.
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> "Éomer! Éomer!" Tears were instantly in her eyes, and she grasped to the furs of her bed. Her eyes followed Erfanaiel for a moment, terrified at what her maid would have to say to her.
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> "Tell me, Erfanaiel, that it was but a terrible nightmare.. Tell me my husband is healthy and safe!"
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> Erfanaiel sat down on the bed in front of her, one hand reaching out to smooth her mistress's hair back. "Safe.. Yes, he is safe.."
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> Instantly, Lothíriel had risen from the bed, her hand clutched at her chest. "Tell me not that he is dead! Do not speak it, for I shall die upon this very spot!"
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> "Nay, my lady, he is not dead." The word 'yet' hovered upon her lips, but seeing the hysterical state of her lady, she dared not speak it. "Éothain bade me to send you to Éomer's chamber, as soon as you awoke. You must remain calm and brave, my lady! The healers threatened to sedate you again if you did not calm yourself.."
> 
> Lothíriel was beside herself with grief and anxiety, and had Erfanaiel not forced her to slip into a plain gown, she would surely have run through the hall in naught but her shift.
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> And then, she was allowed to see him, a moment that she both longed for and dreaded. He lay in a large bed in one of the guest rooms, and a fire roared to keep the dampness of the rain out. He was pale and sweat lined his forehead, and he looked so frail to her. He was in a dead sleep, he did not move save for his shallow breathing. Where was her strong husband, who would lift her up in his arms and carry her back to their chambers? Where was the man that could single handedly calm a horse that no other man could ride? She felt tears well in her eyes again, but one glance at Éothain told her that now was not the time, now she must be strong.
> 
> "Tell me how this came to pass.." She whispered as she hurried to his bedside, her hand gingerly picking up his limp one. Her fingers wrapped around him, gently clutching his hand to her chest so that he could feel her heart beat.
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> "We were ambushed," Éothain whispered, his eyes carefully turned away from the scene of his King and Queen. "We thought we had destroyed most of them, and we had been helping rebuild a village. It was a small number, but they all seemed bent on getting to Éomer."
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> "Think you that it was a planned attack, specifically to get him?" She turned her gaze from her husband to his second in command.
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> "Perhaps.. We are in talks with council now to discuss if it was perhaps part of a larger plot. Perhaps the Dunlendings."
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> She nodded and looked back to Éomer, her free hand gently reaching out to brush across his forehead. He had been shivering before she had arrived, and it amazed Éothain to see his leader so calm now.
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> "He is burning up.. Is there nothing we can do?" She whispered, her hand resting on his forehead for a moment.
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> "He has a fever.. No doubt an infection. He has several wounds on his chest, and he was shot by a bow in the thigh. There was some sort of poison on the tip. It.. It doesn't look good, my lady. The healers have done all they can."
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> She closed her eyes, tears burning at the back of her eyes. "Send a letter to King Elessar.. Alert him to what happened. This may not be just a plot on Rohan, Gondor may be threatened as well. Besides, Elessar and Éomer are good friends.. No doubt he will want to hear of this. And send one to Lady Éowyn, immediately. Erfanaiel, you sent one to Dol Amroth, yes?" Her maid nodded. "Then go, please, and send those other letters. Send our fastest rider to Gondor." With that, Erfanaiel disappeared through the door way, Éothain watching her leave.
> 
> Lothíriel sighed and let her head rest softly on Éomer's shoulder, tears finally being released. "My love, you promised me.." As she began to sniffle, Éothain quietly slipped out and shut the door behind him.
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> Everything was black. He tried to turn to look around, but he couldn't move. Fire and ice.. It felt like he was constantly being tossed between the two. His entire body burned.
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> "Éomer.."
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> It was a woman's voice, but he couldn't recognize it. Why was it so familiar?
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> "Éomer.. Éomer.."
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> And then, all of a sudden, he was running. His legs moved him of their own accord, and he felt as if every nerve in his body would explode if he did not reach.. What? Something. His body so desired whatever it was, where ever he was running to. The comforting voice that was calling him seemed to be far behind him now, and his heart cried to go back. But his body wouldn't let him. He felt torn, wanting to be two places at once. As he kept running, he found he could no longer hear the voice, and his heart seemed to break. Who was she? Why did it matter so that he hear her voice?
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> He must have been running for hours, or maybe just minutes. He couldn't tell. Where was he anyway? And then, as if an explosion had gone off, he saw light. And then he was there, this lush green land. He was standing on top of a hill with rolling green grass, and below him was the most beautiful lake he had ever seen. Everything was beautiful. The sky was perfect blue, and the temperature was wonderful. He turned around, finding himself completely alone, and wishing that her voice had been there.
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> He felt at peace. He no longer burned, and he looked down to see his wounds were gone. He began to walk down the hill, a winding path leading him down to the lake. And there he saw them. His heart seemed to stop as he gazed at the face of his Uncle and Cousin, long dead.
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> They smiled at him as he approached the lake where they stood, and they laughed as they all embraced.
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> "Uncle.. Theodred.." He stared at them both in shock, and they laughed at his bewilderment.
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> "Your parents have been awaiting your arrival.." Theoden rest his hand on Éomer's shoulder. "They are quite proud of you, as are we all."
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> Theodred nodded to his cousin, playfully hitting his arm. "I couldn't imagine a better leader for Rohan, my cousin, you have done brilliantly."
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> And then it began to fade, the beautiful landscape and his cousin and uncle, just as he was beginning to see his parents approach. "No.." He whispered, reaching his hand out to grasp his uncles shoulder.
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> "We were wrong," Theoden began, "It is not your time yet. Do not worry Éomer, we await your arrival! Though it shall not be soon, I fear."
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> Everything began to fade to black, but just before his cousin was gone, he could hear Theodred call out to him. "Your wife is lovely, I cannot wait to meet her and woo her away from you!"
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> "Éomer!" Lothíriel nearly fell out of her chair when she felt his hand stir in hers. She leaned forward as Éothain and the healers burst in. She ran her hands over his face, brushing away bits of dirt and sweat. "Éomer!"
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> As he stirred into consciousness, he marveled at the voice he heard. It was the same from the dream.. The one that he had desperately wanted to go back to. Her beauty nearly blinded him as he forced his eye lids to open. He wanted to move, wanted to hold this woman in front of him. He wanted to ask her why she was crying, but all he could do was groan. He could barely move without pain shooting through his limbs.
> 
> A protest rose to his lips when the beautiful woman was pulled away from him and replaced by people he did not recognize. He could still hear her voice though, and it soothed him as he let his eyes close again.
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> She had been pulled from the room, the healers needing the space to work. He was awake! She sighed with relief as she leaned against the wall outside the room. Surely he would be ok.. Surely everything was going to be ok now.
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> Hours seemed to slip by and Erfanaiel kept her company as well as bringing food to her, which she was delighted to find her mistress would eat. Finally the door opened and Éothain stepped out, relief evident upon his face.
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> "The healers believe he will be okay.. He was sent back to us." He murmured before helping Lothíriel stand. "His fever is broken and his wounds are healing nicely. The poison must have passed out of his body, though I do not know how.. It is truly a miracle." He shook his head in amazement. "My lady, I insist that you go and rest. If he wakes again, Erfanaiel will wake you immediately."
> 
> Reluctantly, Lothíriel was lead back to her bed. She curled up on Éomer's side of the bed, inhaling his scent as she slipped into dreams.
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> A/N; In the middle of writing this I came up with a nice little plot twist. I'm sure someone can guess it! But I'm not going to confirm or deny anything ;) You'll just have to wait and see in the next chapter! Which, by the way, I'm sure I'll have out soon. I've already started on it. Reviews feed my fluff bunnies!


	3. Discoveries

> A/N; Well, your reviews have continued to be helpful and inspirational! I hope you enjoy the third chapter, which I seemed to have churned out really fast. Reviews feed me!!  
  
Just a few notes;  
  
Spacepirate (spacepirateeyahoo.ca) - Thank you so much for correcting me! I hope I did a better job with this chapter.. I never knew 'ok' originated in WWII. I learn something new everyday! Thanks again!  
  
Voldie on Varsity Track ) - I agree, more E/L everyone!! Unfortunately the smut won't be for another few chapters.. I think. I may change my mind ;x Who knows. I'll definitely read your story, and you think I'm talented? I'm honored! You rock. ;b  
  
lady scribe of avandell - oh very good guess! Thank you for the review :B! She so very Guinevere.  
  
To Everyone Else: I didn't want to take up too much time with all the reviews, so I spent more time writing! I do hope you like this update, I planned on making it a bit shorter than this, but I couldn't stop writing. Don't forget to review!  
  
Disclaimer; "Our pets head are falling off!" Dumb & Dumber
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> Éomer stirred, wincing in pain as he remembered his wounds. He found his vision was considerably less blurry as he looked up in to the eyes of his dear friend Éothain. He tried to smile, but his lips were dry and cracked.  
  
"Do not speak, your majesty. No doubt your throat is quite dry. Would you like some water?" At Éomer's nod, a servant was sent off to get water and broth.  
  
"You gave us quite a scare." He helped the King take water and set the broth on a table for when Éomer was ready to eat.  
  
Éomer coughed some, and with Éothain's help, managed to sit up slightly so that he was propped on pillows. After drinking more water, he finally was able to speak. His voice was rough, and it hurt his throat to talk.  
  
"Where is my Uncle?" He near whispered, and Éothain took a surprised step back.  
  
"Your uncle?" He questioned, looking to one of the healers. "My lord, what is your last memory?"  
  
Éomer frowned and thought for a moment. He had flashes of things, of Orc's and Rohirrim. He recognized the territory well enough. "Battling Orc's with Theodred. Is he alright?"  
  
Éothain opened his mouth to speak, though he knew not what he should say. The healer pulled him aside and began to whisper in his ear, while Éomer watched them suspiciously. "I would have you speak, sirs, on the condition of my cousin!" His voice had raised slightly, and both men could tell their King was growing irritated.  
  
And to make matters even more complicated, Lothíriel chose then to burst in.  
  
"Éomer! They told me you had woken.." She was instantly at his side, tears in her bright eyes as she ran her fingers through his hair. She did not see the confusion in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but she leaned forward and kissed him gently.  
  
Éomer felt as if fireworks had burst behind his eyes at her touch. His heart raced and his palms grew sweaty, and his body hummed with the feel of her. It left him with peculiar feelings of familiarity and confusion. He did not return the kiss, being unaware of who this woman was.  
  
When he did not kiss her in return, she pulled back, her happy countenance quickly fading.  
  
"My lord?" She whispered.  
  
"Who are you?" He stressed, something in his heart twisting painfully at the sight of shock and hurt in her beautiful eyes. She pulled away from him quickly, her bewildered gaze searching out Éothain and the healer.  
  
"I do not understand.." She stuttered, her hands shaking. Éothain lead her from the room again, Erfanaiel waiting patiently outside. She looked into her husbands eyes with surprise, having not expected the visit to be so short.  
  
"There is much to say, but now is not the time." He murmured, giving the Queen to her maid. "Be sure she is kept away from the king, for a time."  
  
"I am _not_ a child!" She cried, her hands clutched into small fists. "I shall not allow you to usher me off, _again_, and I demand to know what is going on. Why did he ask who I was? _What is going on?_" Erfanaiel gently took Lothíriel's arm, trying to soothe her away.  
  
"You have my word that as soon as we know what is going on, you shall know." Éothain looked straight into her eyes, and the honesty there startled Lothíriel in to being calm. She stole one glance into the room, her gaze meeting Éomer's curious one. When she saw none of the love and tenderness that normally was held there, she turned and fled to her rooms.  
  
"What do you think has happened?" Erfanaiel whispered as she took Éothain's hands in hers.  
  
"The healers and I fear he has lost his memory.. He is asking for his uncle and cousin." He released a sigh, his voice lowered so that Éomer could not hear. "I do hope Lady Éowyn arrives soon. She surely shall know how to handle this. If it is permanent.." His face was grim as Erfanaiel lowered her gaze, her shoulders slumping.  
  
"Poor Lothíriel.." She murmured before her husband embraced her, planting a soft kiss upon her forehead.  
  
"We are doing all we can. At least he is still a live. That in and of itself is a miracle.. An absolute miracle." Erfanaiel nodded and released him slowly.  
  
"I shall see you later?"  
  
"Of course." He leaned forward and kissed her again before she disappeared down the corridors, seeking out her mistress.  
  
Erfanaiel found her out on the balcony of the Royal Apartments. It was still raining, though it was more of a mist now, but Lothíriel seemed not to care. She had no cloak on, and she was shivering slightly. Though her maid knew not if it was from tears, fatigue, cold, or all three.  
  
"My lady.. You shall make that cold of yours worse." As if on cue, she sneezed, but did not move.  
  
Erfanaiel braved the weather and walked out on to the balcony, an extra cloak in hand. She placed it upon Lothíriel shoulders, shaking her head softly.  
  
"He does not know who I am?" She whispered, looking to her maid.  
  
She opened her mouth to speak, not knowing whether to quell her mistress's troubled mind or to give her the most honest answer.  
  
"They fear it to be amnesia.. They're trying to determine if it is permanent or temporary. You must keep up hope, my lady! At least he is alive." She whispered, lowering her gaze.  
  
Lothíriel swallowed back her tears, nodding in agreement. She was right. He was alive, and that was of the utmost importance.  
  
"Let us hope then that it is temporary."  
  
A few moments of calm silence passed between them, Lothíriel gazing out at the cloudy sky and Erfanaiel waiting patiently beside her.  
  
"Your dinner is waiting inside, my lady. You should really be inside, where it is warm and dry."  
  
She gave a nod and walked back inside, a Erfanaiel giving a sigh of relief as she followed in her wake.
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> 
> It was several days later before Lothíriel would go near Éomer's room. While her heart screamed to go to him, she could not face his questioning gaze.  
  
She buried herself in her work, focusing on the councils that had been delayed due to the royal couples maladies. She informed them that it would be "some time" before the King returned, and that they would have to deal with her till then.  
  
She sat in his office, in his chair, behind his desk. The room seemed to be filled with memories of him, the scent so strong that she could have sworn he was there beside her. Pushing away another report from a recovering village, she rose and stretched her limbs. Éowyn was due to be there that day, and it was now almost dark. Closing her eyes, she prayed that Éowyn would arrive soon.  
  
"Lothíriel.. Wake up." She felt a hand gently combing through her hair, and with a jerk she was awake. Blinking back the sleepy blur in her eyes, she saw that Faramir and Éowyn had arrived, though she could tell the hour was late.  
  
"I must have dozed off.." She whispered as she straightened herself, finding that she had fallen asleep in Éomer's chair. She rose quickly and gave them both a brave smile. "Did you just get here?"  
  
"Yes, we rode as fast as we could.. Where is Éomer?" Éowyn tried to look like she wasn't shaken, but tears had clearly been shed earlier.  
  
Lothíriel felt the color drain from her face as Faramir linked arms with her and let her lead.  
  
Upon arriving, Éowyn hurried into the room, and Faramir would have followed had Lothíriel not stopped him.  
  
"What is it?" He looked at her, his hands resting on her shoulders.  
  
"He will not know who you are, cousin."  
  
"What?" He looked taken a back, and turned to go into the room again.  
  
"I am serious." She hissed, grabbing him again. "He does not know who I am, nor you! He has lost his memory. He has been asking for his uncle and cousin."
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> "Éomer!" He looked up to find his sister at his side, and a bowl of broth in her hands.  
  
"Not more broth." He groaned as he looked into her eyes. "Honestly, Éowyn, I cannot eat any more. I feel I shall be sick."  
  
She frowned and sat the bowl down, her hands going to her hips. "You need to regain your strength! You lost a lot of blood, and your wounds are serious. It is a blessing that you have made it."  
  
"Honestly, with you around Éowyn, I shall never need to find a wife. You nag enough for two." He snorted and crossed his arms over his chest as he glared up at her. "And I want out of this bed."  
  
He seemed to miss the look of confusion and shock that passed over Éowyn's face, and she quickly turned around to leave the room. She paused and looked back at him for a second. "Listen to the healers or it will not go well for you." And with that she left.  
  
With the door shut behind her, she grasped to Lothíriel. "You did not tell me he has lost his memory."  
  
"The healers are still trying to decide the seriousness of it. They are quite sure it was a combination of loss of blood as well as a severe injury to his head. He should have died." She whispered as she looked to Éowyn, her face grim.  
  
"He does not know who I am, so we had hoped that you could talk to him." She looked away from Éowyn, while Faramir rest his hand upon her shoulder.  
  
"Of course, I shall speak with him now." She turned to the guards and began to speak to them before she walked back into Éomer's room.  
  
"Come, Cos. There is nothing we can do now." Faramir gave her a strong smile.  
  
"Back already?" Éomer questioned as he watched his sister enter with a grim look. "What is it, sister?"  
  
She drew a chair by his bed and took his hand in hers. "There is much to say, Éomer. You must listen to me, no matter how odd it shall sound to you. Do you swear?"  
  
He frowned at her. "You're acting peculiar.. But yes, I swear to listen."  
  
She hesitated, turning her face slightly away from his questioning gaze. "Theodred.." She paused, tears gathering. The grief still seemed so fresh. "He is dead, Éomer. He has been dead for near on two years."  
  
Éomer sat up quickly, almost too quickly. He sank back down, his head swimming as pain shot through his limbs, protesting his movement. Éowyn shot him a glare as he made to speak.  
  
"You're supposed to be listening. You have lost your memory, Éomer. We have already faced the Great War. We won." She stopped, watching his reaction.  
  
"You better be telling the truth. Where is Uncle?" But the look in her eyes told him enough. "No.."  
  
"In the midst of the Great Battle of the Pelennor Fields before the gates of Minas Tirith, our Uncle drew his last breath." Her tears gathered again, and she rest her head lightly against his chest. "He died bravely, valiantly, and he is in a better place with Theodred."  
  
A strange look of understanding passed over Éomer's face as he drew his fingers through Éowyn's hair. "Yes.. I know they are." He could remember the dream, remember the peaceful atmosphere and beautiful land. He breathed a sigh as Éowyn sat up, her hand tracing his face.  
  
"But.. If Uncle is dead, who is..?"  
  
Éowyn gave a little laugh and sat back in the chair. "Who do you think? Me?"  
  
"Well, I know he left you in charge before we left the Dunharrow."  
  
"Nay, Éomer. Tis not I. Tis you."  
  
"It is a position I do not want, nor should have." He whispered as he bowed his head, and Éowyn swore she saw tears.  
  
"There is no choice, Rohan needs you." She pleaded, her hands grasping his lightly.  
  
"Tell me what has happened.. Has Sauron been defeated?"  
  
And so Éowyn set about telling her brother all that she knew, excluding her own part in the battle. She could only face that kind of anger with her once in her life. She watched the range of emotions that he displayed, from the relief that they triumphed to the grief at the loss of so many of their people. Finally, she told him of her marriage to Faramir, and his expression gave her some amusement.  
  
"You, married? Poor man."  
  
"Éomer!" She was relieved to see him smile at her.  
  
"Tell me how I came to be here, wounded and bed ridden."  
  
"Only if you will eat this broth." He wrinkled up his nose but finally consented. As she helped him eat, she carefully thought over how she was going to tell him he had married as well. It was a sensitive subject, for the healers had warned her not to overload him. Pursing her lips together, she decided to tell him that he was married, but to let him figure out everything else out for himself. He was no child.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Days turned into weeks, and finally the King was allowed to rise from his bed. Lothíriel had not gone to see him, other than when she had to pass the room and she could hear his conversations with Éowyn and Faramir. Her heart twisted painfully at those moments, to know that he hardly even knew she existed. Again.  
  
She threw herself into running the country, as winter was fast approaching. The heavy rains of summer would quickly turn to snow, and she had to prepare for a hard season. Supplies had to be distributed to the villages who had not faired as well, and she was exhausted nearly every day.  
  
And then, one night, she was forced to deal with her husband as well.  
  
She found it hard to sleep now, the bed seeming so empty and large without her husbands frame beside her. And so, she had taken to walking beyond the gates to just the edge of the plains, watching the stars and the moon. She found peace there, the sound of the rolling grass almost like the tides of the waves of her home.  
  
As she sat there one night, her heavy cloak wrapped about her, she failed to hear the approach of another. It was only until the man passed right near that she startled and jerked to her feet, her instincts kicking in. But instantly she faltered back, seeing the powerful figure of Éomer standing there. He must not have noticed her, so lost in his thoughts he appeared to be, that he had passed right by there.  
  
She turned to go, praying that he had not seen her. She had not stolen her heart away to deal with his questions. But she froze, as if turning to stone upon that spot, as she heard him speak.  
  
"My lady?"  
  
He watched as she turned to face him, this woman who had appeared nearly out of no where. Éowyn had told him that he was married, but she had said nothing about the woman. Nothing more than her name. Now, as Éomer stared into the stormy depth's of this stunning woman's eyes, he wondered if this was her. She was breathtaking. He found it hard to think as she looked at him, and her nobility told him there was something about her. He was attracted, that he was sure of, but he knew not if he had married this woman for love or duty.  
  
"I am sorry to disturb you, my lord. I was simply going to retire when I saw you out here.. I had no wishes to intrude." She whispered, bowing her head slightly. Her hand moved against her navy blue skirts, and he saw the glint of her wedding ring.  
  
"May I ask your name?" He tilted his head, studying her. Yes, he was definitely attracted to her.  
  
"Lothíriel, my lord." She kept her head bowed, afraid to look him in the eyes.  
  
Something about the way she seemed to be subdued by him made his heart twist painfully, as if she had been defeated by something. A fierce protectiveness rose in him and he fought back the urge to pull her into his embrace and hold her forever. He took a deep breath, recognizing her name. So this was his wife.  
  
"May I ask.. How old the child is?" His eyebrow arched. Surely this woman did not love him. She was.. too beautiful, too noble. He must have..  
  
"Child?" Her eyebrow arched as her head shot back up, and had it been day light he would have seen the angry blush on her face and neck. "There is no child. You must have misunderstood, my lord, for I was the Princess of Dol Amroth, Daughter of Prince Imrahil. I was not some whore that you impregnated and forced to marry!" She hissed as she gathered her skirts and hurried back up to the Golden Hall, leaving a bewildered Éomer behind her.
> 
> * * *
> 
> A/N; Next Chapter, SOON! I've started on it already. Again! I can't stop writing. The more reviews, the sooner the chapter! 
> 
> Say, if I started a LJ community for all the readers & writers of A&A, E&F, and E&L, would anyone join? Let me know. Email me! Which you can find the address on my FFnet profile. x.o


	4. Surprises

> A/N; This is just a filler chapter, really, because I'm going to the beach tomorrow till the seventh, so it'll be a little while before I can update. Sorry! But, if you're interested, the greatest journal community for writers of E/L, E/F, A/A ships, is located under the username on greatest journal called sandcastles. A link is in my profile.
> 
> I'm going to finish the layout for it when I get back. See you then!  
  
-Elegant couture  
  
Lothíriel released a sigh as she finished writing a letter to her brother, Amrothos. She gazed blankly out the window of her chambers, her encounter with Éomer looping in her mind. Perhaps she had been too quick to anger, and no doubt he was questioning why he really had married her. All she wanted was for him to come back to her, to hold her and tell her it was better now.  
  
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and she turned to see Eowyn hurry in. "The defense council wishes to speak with you."  
  
Lothíriel rose and followed her sister to the Great Hall, where a group of men stood looking at a table, Éothain already in deep discussions. She froze on the spot when she saw Éomer standing amongst them.  
  
Eowyn cleared her throat, nearly dragging Lothíriel over to where they stood. "Gentlemen, your Queen."  
  
They all gave her a bow and she nodded in return, her tongue darting over her lips. "What is it you wish to speak with me about?"  
  
"Larger numbers of Orc's and Wild men have been spotted near villages, but never threatening them. The most they have been doing is stealing crops, but we fear they may be planning something more." Éothain explained as he stepped back, allowing Lothíriel to look down at the map where they had marked the movement of Orc's.  
  
"Stealing crops..." Her fingers idly traced the pattern of the Orc's movements, her brows furrowing for a moment. "They would be benefiting themselves more if they were simply attacking these villages, for they are still weak and badly protected."  
  
"Do you think they are stealing food for someone else?" Éomer chose then to step in, and Lothíriel's heart skipped at the sound of his voice. She forced herself to look up at him, her gaze steadily meeting his. Too bad the rest of her did not feel so steady.  
  
"Yes." Her voice was airy. "Perhaps for a larger force.. We cannot send any soldiers out, for this may be a trick to simply draw the army away from here so that they may attack easier. A diversion, if you will." She pursed her lips and looked back to the council. "I think they shall move ever closer to us, especially if they see no sign of our movement. There is little we can do 'till they are close enough. They will not dare to risk losing their numbers by attacking a village. I think they have some greater plan at mind."  
  
The men nodded at this, seeming to follow their Queen's logic. As she looked up from the map again, she found that Éomer was gazing intently at her with the most peculiar look on his face. Choosing to ignore, she looked back to the other advisors. "Is there anything else? We should probably release a warning for travelers and merchants to be on the guard when traveling."  
  
The nodded in agreement again, some of them dispersing off to do as their queen wished. Eowyn stood back, her arms crossed, as she watched the proceedings. She had never seen Lothíriel govern before, and it shocked her at how perceptive the younger woman was. She really was quite the good queen, even though she was a foreigner.  
  
"I should really thank you father for letting you sit in on his councils." Eowyn added as she walked over to her, a small smile on her face. "You make a good queen for Rohan. Come, you look weary; I shall have a hot bath fixed for you. Would you care to dine with Faramir and me tonight?"  
  
Lothíriel nodded quietly, her hand resting upon her forehead for a moment as she looked down at the map.  
  
"The Dunlendings are driven by starvation and the need to feed their children... Is that so horrible? I wish we could figure out a way to help them..."  
  
Eowyn shook her head at that, her eyes looking down at the map as well. "You know that they have long been the blood enemies of the Rohirrim. They will not accept any help you give them, and your people would feel betrayed. I fear there is nothing you can do. Faramir stresses over the Haradrim as well. Now come, you will feel better after you rest."  
  
Éomer had watched the whole proceedings in silence, his eyebrow arched as he watched his sister escort Lothíriel towards her chambers.  
  
Moments later, Eowyn returned to find Éomer standing outside, overlooking the bustling marketplace of Edoras.  
  
"What troubles you?"  
  
"I did not marry for a political alliance, did I?" He turned on her suddenly, and the look in his eyes frightened her. He was utterly anguished; his thoughts on this remarkable woman were so conflicting. She was brilliant, and the way she had yelled at him last night seemed so familiar to him. Everything about her seemed familiar.  
  
"No." Eowyn looked out to the plains, her eyes narrowing slightly. "No, Éomer, You would never do that. You know that!"  
  
"Then tell me.." He murmured, his hands coming up to cover his face for a moment. This was all so exhausting. "Tell me my history with her. Anything. My head hurts from all this.."  
  
"She told me what happened last night and the funny thing is, it is so very typical of you two. You were fighting from the day you met, both of you being so hot headed. King Elessar suggested it was because you were so in love with each other, but frustrated because you were sure the other did not feel the same. And then.."  
  
He stopped listening to Eowyn as a memory jarred his mind, flashing before him as if it was happening then.  
  
He could see Lothíriel a top of a black horse, riding swiftly across a plain. It was certainly not Rohan.. It was a bit blurry, but then he saw the horse stumble a bit and Lothíriel was thrown off. He felt himself running to her, crying her name as he neared her still body.  
  
"Lothíriel.."  
  
"Éomer? Éomer!" And then it faded, and Éowyn's face replaced it. He was laying flat on his back, Eowyn shaking him softly while guards stood around him. He groaned and felt the bump on the back of his head, wincing in pain.  
  
"What..?"  
  
"You fainted. Are you alright?" He could hear the amusement in his sisters' tone. Fainting like a woman.. He sat up slowly, and suddenly remembered his memory. Waving away the guards, he stood with the help of Eowyn.  
  
"What were you saying, before I.. Passed out?"  
  
"About you and Lothíriel.. I was just saying how you had had a nasty argument with her and she had taken off on her horse and fallen, and was knocked unconscious. You were the first to her."  
  
He froze. That had been his memory. He could still remember the panicked feeling as he stared at Lothíriel's lifeless body. She had looked so frail, and he remembered wanting to protect her forever.  
  
"I remembered that.." He whispered, still rubbing his head slightly. "That is what made me pass out. I saw that in my mind, I remember that!"  
  
Eowyn stared up at him and breathed a sigh of relief. "Good.. That is very good. Now, you are going to see the healers." When he began to protest, it was lost due to the look in his sisters' eyes.  
  
See you guys when I get back! :B Don't forget to review!!


	5. Freedom

A/N; God, you guys must be about to kill me! I am SO sorry I did not update sooner, but after I got back from the beach, I had to move. Meaning my computer was all packed up. Sucks, I know. But things are fine now, and I give you a new chapter! Don't worry, I've almost finished the next chapter too, so take that as my peace offering!

The beach was so much fun. It gave me a really great idea for another E/L story, but I have to finish this one before I post it! :B

Also, I've started a new journal for anyone interested in my idea's on writing. Just so that if you guys want updates on what I'm going to put up next, and what not. For the link, go to my profile.

Please forgive the delay!

- _Elegant Couture_

Disclaimer; Riiight. :P

* * *

Word had reached Lothíriel that the king had seemingly passed out, and instantly she had hurried to the room he was at. She was hesitant to enter, though, for the memory of their previous fight was still fresh on her mind. Which was why Eowyn found her hovering outside the door nearly an hour later.

"Lothíriel?" She stood with her hands on her hips, watching the younger girl with confusion.

"Eowyn! Is he all right? What happened?"

Eowyn escorted the nearly distraught queen away from the door and towards her own chambers. "Éomer is fine.. The good news is that he has regained some of his memories and the healers are certain that his amnesia is merely temporary." Lothíriel began to speak, but Eowyn cut her off quickly. "Now, go to bed and rest. It is late already and I have let your advisors know that I am taking over for you tomorrow. Take a rest.. Go horse back riding, anything. We cannot have you dragging yourself around, half dead!"

Before Lothíriel could argue, Eowyn had shoved her into her room with a simple "Good night!" and the door slammed shut.

* * *

Lothíriel rose slowly from the bed, her eyes groggily looking to the massive window. It was a cloudy, over cast day and by the looks of it, she had slept well past breakfast. She released a sigh and instinctively turned to where Éomer should have been lying. And then she remembered. She sighed unhappily, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.

"Please let him remember me." She whispered as she crossed over to the changing rooms.

Moments later she was dressed in a simple riding dress, her hair tied back neatly. She felt much more refreshed, though she still could not get a full nights rest with the bed so empty.

She had to escape. If only for a few hours. She wanted to taste the open air and she knew of only one place where she could get some form of peace and rest.

She hurried down to the stables, hoping that no one would see her. She wanted to avoid a 'Royal Escort,' today; surely she would be fine on her own. She had a small dagger with her, and she felt safe in her country. The stable boy tried to protest that she needed to have at least someone with her, but she would not allow it and he was silenced as she rode off.

She rode quickly out of Edoras, wisps of her dark hair caressing her face as she let her horse gallop across the fields. She knew of the best place for her to find peace and to her mind be at ease.

* * *

The stable boy looked up as the King entered in to the stall area. He closed his eyes for a moment, praying that he would not be questioned as to why the Queen was able to leave with an escort and he cursed her good looks and charm for having manipulated him so. Glancing back to the King, he smiled and bowed to him as he approached, sweat breaking out on his forehead. "How may I help you, your majesty? Will you be taking Firefoot out today?"

"Yes," his answer was short, and he watched the boy eagerly ready his stead. He glanced around the familiar stalls but halted when he saw the empty one. It was where Éowyn's horse used to be held, but he knew that her horse was elsewhere. So who had left? He frowned for a moment but promptly forgot to ask as the stable boy led Firefoot to him.

"There you are, your Majesty. He has been very well taken care of while you were ill. The queen has been bringing him apples quite frequently." The boy smiled as he gave his information.

"Has she?" Éomer mumbled to himself, and quickly covered up his thoughts but giving the proud boy a smile. "Well, I suppose I shall have to thank her." He turned Firefoot around, preparing to leave. "Be sure there is fresh water and hay for him when I return. And some brushes, as well." And with that, he trotted through the gates.

Before long, he was leisurely crossing the plains. He was mindful of his wounds, which were now mostly healed. He had to escape that room, for another moment in it would have left him insane. The fresh air tasted so sweet to him. The weather was crisp and clean from the recent rains that had left the ground muddy. He had never felt so refreshed.

He approached his destination swiftly, and paused along the tree line as he spotted another horse. It was a honey brown, and beautiful. He gently slid off of his horse, cautiously studying the other. It was a lithe female, clearly a steed of Rohan, and the saddle was of Rohan as well. He walked past it and into the trees, frowning at the thought of someone discovering his favorite spot. He came near the clearing and instantly hid behind a tree, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

His heart froze. The spot was beyond beautiful. It was a clearing of trees with a crystal pond in the middle, which was shoulder deep at best. A small brook fed it, which twisted out of sight behind the thick trees. And there, in the middle, stood the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He recognized her instantly, this woman who was his Queen. She wore naught by her shift, the water having already soaked it thin, and her hair fell in thick black curls down her back. She was humming, and she almost looked elven at that moment. She was so graceful, so elegant. He could not turn his eyes away, he could not breathe.

He must have shown her this spot, for only he and Eowyn knew of it. She looked so at peace that he loathed to interrupt it, and clumsily he turned to go.

As he did, he stepped on a twig and it broke loudly. Turning back to look over his shoulder, he saw that she had heard it. She had frozen in the water and her eyes wildly searching everywhere. If he did not show himself, he knew that she would panic.

Stepping out in to the clearing, her expression relaxed and then quickly tensed again. "My lord, what are you doing out here? Should you not be resting?"

She captivated him. The shift clung to every curve, and left little to his imagination. How had he managed to marry this woman? What had he done to deserve something so wonderful?

"Forgive the intrusion, my lady. We both seemed to have escaped the cages of Edoras. I found that I would lose my mind if I did not get some fresh air and stretch my legs." He mumbled, turning his eyes away from her sight.

She walked out of the water, the shift dragging around her ankles, and she gave him a small smile. "I see." She whispered, her eyes studying him. If only he knew how many times they had come to this place together, and what had happened each time, he would not have looked so shy and modest. She knew it to be the exact opposite of his true behavior.

She felt bold for the moment, her hand slowly reaching out towards him. He took it, his lips placing a kiss upon her cool skin and his eyes remain lowered. She stepped to him; her body so close that he could have sworn electricity flowed between them.

"Will you not look at me, my lord?"

Her soft voice instantly undid him, and he brought his eyes to meet hers. Instantly they were focused upon her soft, pillowed lips. How badly he wanted to kiss her.

Before he could move, she was on her toes and her lips were on his. Every thought flew from his brain as his eyes snapped shut and his arms instinctively wrapped around her. She was cool and wet, but her lips were burning. He could have sworn that he had in fact died and this was to be his heaven, this woman in his arms. The memory he had regained and the perfect feel of her in his arms left him with no doubt as to how he felt about her.

As her lips parted, he crushed her to him, his hands grasping to her hips and then tangling in the mess of wet ebony curls. She whimpered against him and the noise forced him back to reality. He loved this woman, he was married to this woman; nothing was stopping him. Yet, he could not force himself to this. As much as his body cried out for her touch, for him to take her there upon the forest floor, he would not disgrace her. What if his memory never returned? This would then, essentially, be the first time he was with her. And he wanted her in his bed -- Their bed.

He stepped back from her, and the confusion and hurt in her eyes almost broke his resolve.

"My lord?" She whispered, her brow furrowed as she let her hands fall to her sides. "Have I done something wrong?"

"No, Lothíriel," He replied, his hand gently tracing the curve of her cheek and jaw. "I do not remember everything about you, but I remember the first time I realized I loved you. That memory is powerful enough for me to not want to take you like some common tavern wench. If this is to be our first time together, I would wish it to be perfect."

She looked up at him, shivering slightly at the loss of his warmth. Her heart warmed at his words, and a smile tugged to her lips. He did still love her, he remembered something. She sighed and bowed her head, agreeing to his will. Before she could speak, he slipped his cloak around her and placed a chaste kiss to her lips.

He feared being near her anymore, for his body was screaming for her. But he would not, he would make this special. A second honeymoon, he thought with a smile.

"Will you return to the Golden Hall, now?" He murmured, looking down in to her shimmering eyes.

"Aye, not at this moment, but soon. You take your leave?"

He frowned. He did not want her out alone, for with the threat of the Dunlendings and the Orcs, he did not know how safe it was. "My lady.."

"Shh." She frowned as she gathered her clothes. "I shall be fine on my own. I am not far from Edoras and I have seen no tracks of Orc or Man. You worry too much. Go." She smiled simply and watched as he bowed his head to her and left.

* * *

An hour later, she remained in that sacred spot. She lay back on the grass, her lips still tingling from his kiss. She was half asleep, her eyes lazily shut as she listened to the sounds of the forest. It was then that she heard it, a horse galloping towards that spot. She rose hastily and threw her clothes on, fearing it would not be Éomer this time. She was aware of the dagger hidden in the folds of her simple dress, and she watched as a courier approached through the woods.

"My lady, the king has been injured by Orcs! Lady Eowyn bade me to you, to bring you. They fear the worse." He was out of breath and instantly Lothíriel was on her feet and hurrying to her horse.

"Where?" She gasped, her breath nearly gone. He was badly hurt.. Tears sprang to her eyes. No, not again. She thought.

"Follow me." He said hastily and took off through the woods, and she was eagerly following him.

They came to a clearing, some distance from where they had started. She slowed her horse as the courier stopped and slid off his saddle, but she remained seated.

"Where are they?" She hissed, her gaze nervously taking in her surroundings.

The look on the couriers face frightened her as she looked in to his eyes. "Right behind you." She turned to look over her shoulder when her horse spooked suddenly, rearing up. She clutched the reins to hold on, but they snapped easily and she was thrown, her body landing roughly on the ground with a thud. She moaned slightly, her vision blurring as she stared up in to a face that was unfamiliar.

Before she could open her mouth, she was backhanded so hard that stars exploded in her vision and she was rendered unconscious.

* * *

The gathering darkness worried Éomer. It was near nightfall, and still the Queen had not returned. He was walking down towards the stables, to get his horse and search for her, when he spotted something moving on the plains. His heart froze when he saw it was her horse slowly making its way back to Edoras, and notably rider less. He hurried down the slopes and to the gate, opening it and running to the horse. He studied the mare, surprised to find the reins were broken. They looked like they had been cut, except where a small part showed that it had been snapped. He hurriedly brought the horse back to the stables and handed her over to the boy. "Ready my horse!"He shouted.

A/N; Don't kill me for the cliffhanger :B! REVIEW and i'll update sooner! Bwha. Kisses.


	6. Resistance

A/N: Another chapter already! When I get on a kick, I can't stop.

Fair warning; this is NOT, by any stretch, a happy chapter. It contains a scene that could be disturbing to a younger audience. It will be clearly marked and you can easily skip over it if you wish. While it is vital to the story, it is not vital that you read it.

- Elegant Couture

* * *

Her head had never hurt so bad in all of her life, even when she had had some pretty terrible hang overs. She groaned and rolled on to her side, wincing at the soreness in her body. Slowly sitting up, she took a look around as her head swam in dizziness and pain. She was in a bare room with naught but a door and the uncomfortable cot that she was laying upon. She wanted to stand but every muscle and bone in her body protested the movement.  
  
She remembered the Rohirric courier rushing to her, and his face had seemed oddly familiar. He had said Éomer was hurt but now she doubted that was the truth. She cursed herself for falling so easily in to that trap.. and the memory of that backhand kept her from jumping to the door. She released a sigh and lay back down, turning away from the door. Éomer would find her. Closing her eyes, she prayed silently. He had to find her.  
  
Hours later she heard the door creek open and she faked sleep. She felt fear stirring in her heart, especially considering that she was no longer just the Princess of Dol Amroth. Her kidnapping could be very valuable.  
  
She felt someone sit on the bed beside her, and a calloused hand slid over her exposed arm. Before she could resist, she was rolled over and lips descended on to hers. She 'woke' then, her hands feebly pushing against the man as she refused to return the disgusting kiss. He pulled away and his laugh sent chills down her spine. She sat up quickly and moved away from him.  
  
"Who are you? What do you want?" She hissed as she glared at him. He was tall, somewhat thick, and dull looking. He had long black hair that was stringy and disgusting. She instantly recognized him as a Dunlending.  
  
He sneered at her and rose off the bed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Ernach is my name, your majesty, and you are what I want. Too long has Rohan taken my lands, and using you, I shall get them back."  
  
"Never." She spat, her arms crossing over her chest. "Éomer will never give up lands for me. He will deal with no ransom, our people come first."  
  
"Oh it is not ransom, Queen. It is something much more complicated than a simple trade." He rose off the bed with a laugh and crossed to the door. "And do not even think of trying to leave or we will kill your king."  
  
He was gone before she could say anything more.

* * *

Éomer led the men in to the clearing where he and Lothíriel had last been together. He clearly saw the tracks of a horse leading up to the spot and then two leading away. They were easy to follow and eventually he found a sight that left his blood cold. The clearing that they walked into was full of track marks; several different men and one defining mark that showed where Lothíriel had been thrown from her horse. In the center of the clearing there was an arrow piercing the grown and a note through it. The note had blood on it.  
  
Jumping from his horse, he strode over and snatched it from the ground, hurriedly unrolling the parchment.  
  
_"King of Rohan,_

_Your wife is ours now. This is just the beginning of the revenge we seek for the lands you have taken. "  
_  
He clenched his fist as fury swept through him. Turning back to his soldiers, he narrowed his eyes. Pointing to some of the soldiers, he barked out orders. "Return to Edoras, gather one hundred more soldiers. When you get there, have Eowyn pen a letter to King Elessar of Gondor concerning the fact that the Queen has been kidnapped by the Dunlendings and that we may need his help, should they take her to Gondor or if we need fresh arms." They nodded eagerly and quickly left to do as they were bid. Turning to the rest, he glared. "Come with me, we will follow these tracks."

* * *

When next she awoke, she felt the solid weight of an arm stretched over her waist. She froze, her body stilled as she felt the sick weight of a heavier man next to her. She tried to return to sleep, to pretend this was not happening to her, but instantly she felt a knife at her throat.  
  
"So the whore awakens." Ernach snickered as he rose, his hand groping her hip to force her on to her back.  
  
"If you touch me, I will kill you." She hissed, her body shaking with fear and anger. She knew these men had no morals, no reason to not do what they wanted with her. The way they treated their own women made her shudder. The cold knife pressed to her throat brought her back to reality.  
  
"I do not believe you are in a position to make threats, queen. Mmm.. My, my you are a pretty piece of flesh. You must keep the king quite happy in order for him to have married a Gondorian whore. Your people hate you, you know, that is why that Rohirric courier helped us. He hates that there is a foreigner on the throne." His breath stank and with each word he lowered closer to her face. She shut her eyes tightly, tears threatening to fall. How had he known her deepest fears? The knife disappeared but something worse replaced it; the disgusting lips of her captor.

* * *

This section was rather difficult to write because I wanted to balance details and being too graphic. I hope it's ok. You can skip over it if you cannot handle implied rape.Her small hands were lost against his broad shoulders her cries quickly silenced by his hands. He glared at her as he pinned her body down against the mattress, his sneer making her stomach turn. "If you move, I will find your King, tie him in here and make him watch me take you.. And then I'll kill him in front of you."  
  
Tears sprang to her eyes at his words, and she instantly froze.  
  
"Now that's a good girl." He purred as he slid his hands over her arms, dragging her dress down with it.  
  
Her lips trembled as she looked away, unable to stand the sight of him baring his body. She wanted to throw up and she nearly did when she felt his hands on her thighs, pulling.  
  
"Stop.." She whimpered, her hands gripping the bed sheets.  
  
Before she felt another thing, he slapped her across the face. Her lip began to bleed.  
  
"You'll enjoy it, wench." Tears fell to her cheeks unchecked. She gasped for breath when she felt him pry her legs open, and she turned her gaze to the ceiling, praying that he would simply kill her. She felt his disgusting hands clawing at her soft skin, his fingers gripping so hard to her arms as he moved above her that she was sure bruises would form. She tried not to sniffle, tried not to let him see what he was doing to her. With each movement he made, she felt as if a piece of her soul was being ripped away. 

How could she survive? How could she ever let her husband touch her again? She choked down a sob and tried to pretend she was elsewhere, as if she could take flight from the room.

* * *

She came to, hours later. Her body was sore and she did not dare look at the fresh bruises and scratches that marred her breasts, stomach, and thighs. Tears sprang to her eyes again as she tried to breathe normally, but all she could think of was Éomer. She had shamed him. He hardly even remembered her and now, if he found her, he would not want a wife who had lay with another. She was a dirty whore to him, and he would send her back to Dol Amroth in shame. Twisting her head to the side, she softly sobbed in to the pillow, her body aching with each movement.  
  
Laughter made her stop her tears, and as much as it hurt, she slowly sat up to face Ernach. "You have had what you want; now you stay to humiliate me?" She whispered, her swollen lip aching.  
  
"No, my Queen, I stay to relish in my success. Before long you will be pregnant with the Heir to Rohan.. by my seed." He hissed, the sick grin on his face making her pale. "Not only will this throw Rohan in to Chaos, but Gondor as well. Then, my people will slay the Rohirrim and take back what is ours. And it will only be complete when your King arrives here and I will take great joy in slaying him. After you give birth, I will simply kill you as well. Until then, you are mine for whatever I may wish.."  
  
He laughed and turned to leave, his eyes raking over her naked body. "I will have food brought to you.. no doubt you are hungry." With a triumphant look on his face, he left.  
  
She hurried put her clothes back on, despite the protests of her body. She lay back down, face down on the pillow. What she would not give to have some way to simply kill herself. How could she ever face Éomer again?  
  
Her mind raced and suddenly she sat up so fast that her vision spun. She had carefully hidden her elven dagger in the skirts of her dress, and in his haste to get it off her, she was sure Ernach had not found it. Digging in to the hidden pockets, she found the twelve inch blade, curved dangerously and incredibly sharp. She carefully hid it under the pillow and lay back down. The next time Ernach fancied a go, it would be his last.

* * *

"My lady, riders approach." Eowyn nodded to him and rose from her chair, Faramir quickly at her side. They walked beyond the doors to the Golden Hall and watched as Soldiers approached quickly. As they dismounted, several hurried off and began shouting orders to other soldiers. One approached Eowyn.  
  
"My lady, we bring word from the King. The Queen has been kidnapped.. the King has gone after her and requested more soldiers and that you send word to Gondor." Eowyn gasped and looked to Faramir, who looked as if he could kill someone. She placed a hand upon his arm, looking to him while speaking to the soldier.  
  
"Thank you, you may go." As soon as he was gone, she slid her arms around her husband. "She will be alright.. Éomer loves her, he will find her."  
  
"It is not the finding that I fear, but more what has happened to her already." He murmured, his face pressed to the golden stands of his wife's hair. "Will you need me? I want to help look.."  
  
"Go," She whispered, tears in her eyes. She loved Lothíriel as much as a sister and she feared for her. "Her father and brothers shall be here in two days time, Imrahil will be beside himself. But perhaps it shall comfort him to know his own kin is looking for her. Few are better than the Ithilien Rangers." She smiled sadly up at him, and he eagerly captured her lips in a kiss.  
  
"I would be beside myself if they had taken you.." He sighed, his hands stroking her cheeks. "I would kill them. Éomer.." He trailed off, knowing it need not be said.  
  
"Go." She urged again, her finger placed to his lip. He gave her a nod and the look in his eyes warmed her. She watched him sprint back inside. She knew he left to find his ranger garb, and that he would be gone within the hour. Closing her eyes, she prayed for the safety of her brother, sister, and husband.

* * *

Éowyn looked up from the letter that she had started to King Elessar, and Faramir stood there. There was something in his eyes that she had rarely seen before, and it sent a chill down her spine. Pity crossed her mind as she thought of the wretched souls that held Lothíriel, for their demise would not be swift. The room echoed with his heavy footsteps as she rose and crossed towards him, their arms eagerly tangling about one another.

"I only have a minute.. They await me." He whispered in to her hair.

"Be careful. I long to go with you, but my place is here."

Their kiss was sweet, deep, and passionate, and all present turned their gaze away. When finally they parted, Faramir turned to go, but was called back by the touch of his wife's hand upon his arm.

"Watch Éomer.. I fear in his condition, and his newly found feelings for her, that he may be a bit.. Rash." Her soft voice was grim, and said just so that her husband would hear. He gave her a solemn nod and kissed her soundly again.

"I love you."

"And I, you." She murmured as he hurried from the room.

* * *

Hurrah for another chapter. I hope that was not too much for you guys :/

REVIEW!


	7. Recovery

A/N; Another chapter, and this one is still sad, but at least it's not AS sad as the last one. Reviews feed my fluff bunnies!

Thanks to all you awesome guys that always review. You really rock and you deserve a special round of drinks.

Disclaimer; Durr.

* * *

Éomer watched as the rest of the troops approached across the plain. He was pleased to see it was a hundred strong and yet surprised to see Faramir at the front. Narrowing his eyes, he watched as the man slid gracefully off his horse and approached him.  
  
"Éomer, I will not let you search for my cousin without me." He spoke quickly, before the King was allowed to voice his displeasure. "And, I am an Ithilien Ranger. I can help track." This quelled Éomer's doubts quickly, for he knew that though his men were strong and good in open battle, the Rangers were stealthy and that could be used to his advantage. He nodded and both men mounted their horses again.  
  
"I have tracked them thus far and I believe that they are some leagues from here. There is an old abandoned village not far, which is where I think they have taken over. Not many buildings are left standing, but it would serve as a post for them. They would not have gotten to Dunland in the time from her kidnapping to now. No doubt they are waiting for the cover of night to move. We must be swift." At this Faramir grimly nodded and they set off, hoping that it was not too late. Éomer eyed the setting sun warily, knowing that time was surely against them.  
  
They rode in relative silence, Finally, Éomer dared to speak to this man who had married his sister. "Will you tell me about her? About Lothíriel.. I know that she is your cousin, and obviously from Gondor." He risked a glance at the dark haired man, who was smiling now.  
  
"She is the daughter of my Uncle, Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth. That was where she was raised.. by the sea. She has three older brothers, all of whom were ready to kill you when they found that their darling little sister would be marrying and leaving for Rohan. She is incredibly stubborn, strong willed, pigheaded, however you would like to say. Very feisty, of course, as you have seen. Éowyn liked to say that you two fell in love because there is no one else in all of Middle Earth that can match your stubbornness. She was always like a sister to me.."  
  
Éomer nodded quietly as he listened, absorbing every detail. When Faramir finished, Éomer seemed to be thinking all of this new information over. For a moment he paused, his eyes shut.  
  
"I know what they say.. that I may never get my memories back. But, for some peculiar reason that I can not explain, I would very much like to remember her."  
  
"Well! That is a very good thing," Faramir gave him a small grin, "for her brothers would certainly have your head if you wished out of the marriage now."  
  
Before they could say anymore, a scout was spotted riding hard towards them. The sun had just set.  
  
"My lord, they make ready to leave their camp. If we ride hard, we can no doubt surround them before they leave. They have not caught wind of our approach for they prepare slowly."  
  
Éomer nodded. "How many? Did you see the Queen?"  
  
"I would say there are fifty men, but some could have been in the remains of the houses. There was one house that was being well guarded; I suspect that is where the Queen is being held."  
  
Eagerly, Éomer turned to his troops and cried "We ride hard!" before galloping off with Faramir close behind.  
  
As the door was opened, Lothíriel quickly stole a glance outside. Her heart sank. It was growing dark, and she could tell by their movements that they would be leaving this place soon. Her stomach turned at the thought of going further away from Edoras. She looked up into Ernach's disgusting face, his teeth brown and twisted as he leaned close to her. "Enjoyed last time, eh? I am quite ready for another round myself."  
  
She winced as he forced her back on to the bed, and as she let her head fall on to the pillow, she felt the knife. He was busy trying to get her dress undone, and as he began to tear at the material, she swiftly reached behind her and drew the blade. The hilt was thick, and before Ernach registered what was going on, she had dealt him a quick blow to the head. He fell hard against the floor, and she was quickly on top of him. He was unconscious, thankfully, and her blade quivered in her hand as she pressed it to his neck. Yes, he had done the worst thing possible to her, but she would rather like to see the justice done to him by her husband. With a soft cry, she drew the blade against his stomach, drawing blood. His blood was all over her hands suddenly, and she stumbled backwards. Turning quickly, she found the bag he had left in there and searched through it, finding the black cloak she needed. Tying it around her, she made sure the hood was up as she crept to the door. Glancing out, she saw the guards that had been posted there were busy with readying the few horses that they had.  
  
She slipped out the door unnoticed and ran for the cover of the trees.  
  
Éomer nodded to a few soldiers. "Scout ahead and the woods surrounding the village. We will await your word."  
  
They took off quickly, Éomer and Faramir impatiently waiting. Hours seemed to stretch by before a scout returned, hastily riding up the slope.  
  
"My lords, we have found something!"

* * *

Éomer watched as the soldier cautiously approached the figure huddled up under a large cloak. He had sent the rest of the soldiers to surround the village and await his command. The soldier drew his sword and quickly pulled the cloak away, revealing a woman.  
  
"Lothíriel!" Faramir cried as he nearly fell from his horse in his hurry to get to his cousin. Her clothes were dirtied and torn, her hands soaked in blood, and she was barely conscious.  
  
"Faramir?" She whispered, her lip split from where Ernach had hit her. Her beautiful face was pale and littered with fresh bruises.  
  
"You're bleeding!" He cried as he looked at her hands.  
  
"No.. It is not my blood.." Lothíriel gasped out, and he noticed the sight of her poor feet. They were covered in blisters, cuts, and blood. She had clearly run quite some ways from her captors. "Éomer?" Her eyes wildly searched as Faramir held her in his arms.  
  
Éomer knelt by her, a cold fury rising in his stomach at the sight of his wife. Her dress was hanging off her shoulders and he had to clench his fist at the bruises that marred her soft skin. "Are they still there?" He whispered as he took her hand in his.  
  
"Yes.." Tears gathered in her eyes and she blinked several times, trying to be strong enough not to cry.  
  
"I will kill them all." He hissed, glancing back to his captains. Yes, every Dunlending in that village would die.  
  
"Éomer!" She sobbed, her hand grasping to his as he rose. He looked in to her troubled eyes and something there made him mad with anger. It was familiar, this feeling of fierce protectiveness and the utter need to kill. He had felt it before, but he could not remember where. For a moment he saw something, his sister laying in a field, and the same feeling had washed over him then. Shaking his head, he cleared his thoughts. Now was not the time. He knelt back down hurriedly and gently held her face in his hands.  
  
"Do not worry. I will return. Justice will be done." He whispered soothingly to her, one hand cautiously brushing through her hair. He felt tears burn behind his eyes, and before he could stop them, one slipped on to Lothíriel's cheek. With a shaking hand, she reached up to wipe away the others, and he gently leaned in to her touch.

He looked up to Faramir, who seemed torn between serving justice and caring for the woman in his arms.  
  
"I entrust her to you.. She needs help, return to Edoras. I shall meet you back there with news." Éomer murmured. His gaze met hers again with such intensity that she pulled him down to her lips. He kissed her softly, his lips gently caressing hers in return before he hesitantly pulled back. Without another word, he turned and hurried back to his horse.

They watched him gallop off with the men at his side, and Lothíriel rest her face against Faramir's chest. He gently picked her up in his arms and cradled her against him as they rode back to Edoras.

* * *

Éowyn raced down the stairs to meet Faramir as he approached with Lothíriel in his arms. They immediately took her to her bed room, where the healers awaited her.  
  
She and Faramir had been forced to wait outside of the room while they worked on Lothíriel, but once it was realized she sustained no major injuries, just a few sore ribs and a cracked cheek bone, Erfanaiel emerged to let them back in. Faramir eagerly hurried in, but Erfanaiel grabbed Éowyn's arm and pulled her aside.  
  
"The Queen asked that I perform a pregnancy check on her but I did not find that she was. There was, however... bruises, cuts, marks." She furrowed her brows, shaking her head. It made her sick to think of the suffering of her Lady. "You may need to speak to her... I fear.."  
  
Éowyn nodded eagerly, her hand resting on the older woman's arm. "Thank you for your concern, I shall speak to her about your concerns soon. Is she going to be alright?"  
  
"Oh, yes my lady. She will be fine.. physically. I am going to fix an herbal tea for her and perhaps some soup." And with that she was gone.  
  
Pressing her hand to her forehead, Éowyn sighed. She hoped that Éomer did his worst to those beasts. When she entered, Faramir sat by Lothíriel's bed, her small hand in his. She was already asleep, and it hurt for Éowyn to even look at her sister's bruised face. She appeared so pale and weak that it was hard to imagine that this was the same woman who was strong enough to run a country as well as she did. She rest her hand on Faramir's shoulder and he nodded to her.

Some time later, they exited the room together. Faramir looked at his wife with concern, she had been deadly silent. He could tell her anger boiled just below the surface. "What is it?" He whispered to her, stopping in the hall way to stand in front of her.

"Erfanaiel thinks that she was perhaps.. Violated." Éowyn grimaced and turned away from him. He nodded to her, but she did not miss the look of horror, grief, and furry that crossed his face.

"Will you speak to her about it, later?"

"Yes.. I fear I must. If she was, she cannot suffer alone."

* * *

Lothíriel's room was dark and Éowyn slowly walked in, surprised to find her awake.  
  
"Well?" Lothíriel asked, her entire body covered by a blanket and furs. "They would not say anything to me earlier. They simply gave me something to make me sleep." She whispered, her eyes cast away suddenly.  
  
Éowyn wanted to cry at the tone of her voice. She was always so strong, but now she sounded broken. "They said you shall be fine, you just need to recover your strength." She sat in the chair by her, her soft hand taking her smaller one. "Éomer is not back yet, but I am sure he will be soon. I do not think you shall ever have to worry about that group again."  
  
"Ernach was the name of the leader.. I do not wish him dead." She whispered, her eyes closed as she trembled at the mere thought of him.  
  
At first Éowyn was confused. Clearly this man had hurt her, done something wrong, and she did not wish him dead?  
  
"What do you wish, then?"  
  
The look in Lothíriel's eyes scared Éowyn. "Something worse, should there be such a thing. I wish every bad thing on that beast."  
  
Éowyn sat back, a frown on her face. Lothíriel would hardly make eye contact with her.  
  
"Do you think.. we can still be friends after Éomer gets rid of me?" She whispered, her voice shaking with emotion.  
  
Éowyn almost laughed at the ludicrous of the situation. "Get rid of you? Dear girl, he adores you. He loves you! He would never get rid of you. Why would you say that?"  
  
"I laid with another.." She choked out, tears finally falling to her bruised cheeks. When she saw Éowyn open her mouth, she quickly spit out the rest. "Though not willingly, never willingly! He.. Ernach.." She had to stop. She sobbed into her hands, her small frame shaking.  
  
"Lothíriel.." Tears formed in Éowyn's eyes and she gently sat on the bed by her, and instantly the girl was in her arms and clinging to her.

A/N; Now, some of you may be wondering; So Lothíriel escaped on her own? Yes! The Lothíriel that I like to characterize is a woman who makes use of her resources and faculties and would kick some serious ass if given the situation. So she did rescue herself, but she still had to rely on Faramir and Éomer to return home. So it's a nice balance, I like to think. ;)

PLEASE REVIEW!


	8. Arrivals

A/N; I had a terrible time writing this chapter.. It must have been a horrible case of writers block. Nothing sounded right! But anyway, here it is. Enjoy!

Attention all Éomer and Lothíriel shippers! Help out the cause by emailing Ffnet and saying that you want Lothíriel added to the list of characters! I, for one, am sick of having to search through the terrible "Éomer falls in love with a shield maiden" Mary sue stories. You can do this by going to the help section, which is in the drop box menu at the top. Please help the cause!

- _elegantcouture_

* * *

Éowyn watched as the servants hurried about with the preparations for the return of the king and his men. It was early morning and the sun had just shown over the horizon when a scout had ridden into Edoras announcing the return of the King and his Eored. Instantly, Eowyn had set about having the healing quarter's well-stocked and hot food ready. Now, she stood outside the doors to the hall, watching as the men thundered over the plains.

Faramir had stayed with Lothíriel at Éowyn's request. She felt better that someone was in there with her, for Lothíriel's earlier confession had shaken Éowyn. A cold fear gripped her as she thought of how many times Grima had tried to take advantage of her.

With a shake, she forced herself to raise her head to meet Éomer as he wearily trudged up the steps. There was more emotional torment in his piercing gaze than Eowyn had ever seen before, and it forced a gasp from her lips.

"Éomer?"

His silence both frightened and irked her, and she followed in his wake as he threw open the doors to Meduseld.

"Your anger is with her?" She hissed, and nearly ran in to his back as he came to a dead stop.

"She was taken against her will, and yet you think my anger is with her? Nay, sister, it is with the beast who now lays dead." His voice was harsh, and she was glad then that he did not turn around. "Where is she?"

"Faramir is with her at the moment, she sleeps in the royal chambers." Taking advantage of his hesitation, she whirled around him, the siblings finally facing each other, "She is broken. Her spirit is stronger than this, but it will take time and patience."

He looked in to her eyes and she sighed with frustration. "How will you handle this, Éomer? You do not even remember her!"

"I remember that I love her, and that is enough." He growled, and brushed past her without another word. Her footsteps halted behind him as he approached the door.

It was the first time he had visited these chambers since he had lost his memories. He could still feel his uncle's presence there, and the fact that these rooms were now his still confused him. Pulling open the door, he felt his hand tremble some. How was he going to handle this?

The darkness in the room was almost all encompassing; the only light was by the dull fire. He saw the shape of Faramir, sitting on the bed with Lothíriel's head cradled in his lap. He was surprised when the older man turned and looked at him, obviously having been up all night. With a respectful nod, Faramir gently woke Lothíriel and moved her back on to the pillows.

"Wake, darling. Just for a moment so I can move.." Faramir whispered, his hand soothingly brushing her hair as she stirred. He easily slid off the bed and planted a kiss upon her cheek, before looking to Éomer once more. They nodded to each other and Faramir rest his hand comfortingly on his shoulder. With just a second pause, he moved on, meeting Éowyn at the door. They both looked back in, and Faramir quietly whispered to his wife, "Should we leave them?"

"Yes, come, you need rest." With that, the door shut behind them.

As he hesitantly approached the bed, a bittersweet emotion ran through his weary body at the sight of his wife wearing one of his nightshirts. She looked so small and delicate as he sat by her, her eyes barely open. Even in the pale glow he could see the bruises on her face, the cut lip, and the marks on her neck. It woke something in him that he had only felt on a battlefield.

She began to wake and sit up, her mouth opening to speak as she turned her gaze away from him. The shirt slipped from her shoulder and a cut there drew his gaze. With a simple gesture, he leaned over and placed a soft kiss to it, and then with the softest touch he corrected the shirt.

"Lay down." His voice was hoarse with emotion, and to her dismay, she felt as if fresh tears would burst from her at any moment.

"I am sorry." It was a gasp, a desperate attempt to sound strong when she did not feel it. She turned to lie on her side, away from the gaze of her husband so he would not see the tears that plagued her bright eyes. His weight was lifted from the bed, and she felt her heart harden. Surely now he would leave her, when she secretly needed him most. She bit back a sob, her eyes shutting tightly as her hands came to cover her face out of shame. She felt so weak.

The feel of his large, warm hands on hers startled her. He took advantage of her surprise and gently pulled her hands in to his, and she forced her eyes open. He was lying beside her, and the look in his eyes made her melt. Their depth of uninhibited love, compassion, and sadness made her ache, and she tried to inch closer to him but winced in pain.

Instantly his arms were around her, and the familiar feeling of safety encompassed her. Pressing her face to his chest, inhaling his scent, she swore that she would stay there forever.

Pressing his lips tenderly to her head, he inhaled the sweet scent of lavender from her hair. "I do not wish for you to be sorry, only know that I will never let harm come to you again. It is not your fault, Lothíriel; please do not do this to yourself."

At his words, it was if something inside of her snapped. Tears flowed like rain down her cheeks and melted into his tunic, and thought each one broke his heart, Éomer was more than happy to let his wife cry on his shoulder.

He held her gently, his hands soothingly rubbing her back. And though he would never admit it to anyone else, he wept into her hair at the sounds of her heartbreaking cries.

He had only been asleep for a few hours when something woke Éomer up. Lifting his head, he found that Lothíriel still held tightly to him. Planting a gentle kiss on her forehead, he slowly unwrapped himself from her and stood, stretching his stiff muscles. It was almost midday, and he knew that Prince Imrahil and Lothíriel's brother were expected in the afternoon.

Pulling the coverlet over her shoulder, he kissed her cheek and turned to leave when he found Éowyn standing in the doorway.

Crossing the room, he met her gaze evenly and allowed her to lead him down the hall.

"The Prince will be arriving soon. What all do you remember of him and his sons?"

"I met them in Minas Tirith once, while on some diplomatic journey with Theodred."

"Well, Elphir will not be with them. Amrothos has dark hair and looks similar to Lothíriel, while Echirion has lighter hair." Stopping before they entered the main hall, she gave him a glance. "They know nothing of her kidnapping, so we will speak privately about that. We do not need to wake up Lothíriel until they are going to see her."

He simply nodded. She gave him a critical look and shook her head for a moment. "You should go freshen up before they arrive."

* * *

Imrahil was furious. Faramir had tried to be as comforting as possible as he explained to Prince Imrahil, Amrothos, and Erchirion what had befallen Lothíriel. However, it had been Amrothos that shocked them all.

"Where is my sister?" His voice was a deadly hiss, and everyone who knew him best had to pause in surprise. Amrothos's anger was nearly nonexistent. Even during the war, he had made jokes to anyone around him while he slaughtered Orcs. He was rarely serious, and while this grated on his father's nerves at times, it had been a comfort to see that the war had not touched his children too deeply.

While Lothíriel was close with all her brothers, it had been Amrothos that she was closest. He had been five years old when she was born and after their mother's death, he became her sworn protector. They were terrible, always playing jokes on people. It was infamously known that when they visited Minas Tirith it became a full out war between Faramir and Boromir and their younger cousins on who could pull the most pranks on each other and everyone else. Lothíriel had been the lone female in a family full of boys.

Faramir escorted them to her chambers and as he opened the door, Amrothos burst in. He crossed the room in a sprint and as his sister sat up, he embraced her gently. Burying his face in her curls, he held tightly to her. "Ria.. How could this happen to you?" He whispered to himself, and he felt her respond by pressing her face to his shoulder.

Erchirion stood next to Éomer, and he studied him for a moment. He was weary, that much was obvious. "Are you starting to remember anything?" His tone was quiet, and Éomer turned to his brother-in-law.

"Yes.. A few things."

"Queen Arwen, when we passed through Minas Tirith, bade me to give you this." He held out a vial that held a pale blue liquid in it, and a letter wrapped around it.

With a nod and a muttered thanks, he watched for a moment as Imrahil sat down beside his daughter and Erchirion walked further in to the room. Éomer and Faramir exchanged a glance and then Éomer walked off, down the hallway towards his private study.

Éomer hesitantly sat in the chair that was once his Uncle's. He had so many memories of sitting in this study, listening to his uncle recite some tale of the Rohirrim, and a smile flitted on to his face. Though he was loathe admitting it to anyone else, his wounds were still fresh and he had not received enough rest in the past few days for them to mend. He ached, constantly, and his muscles protested almost any movement. Nevertheless, what more could he do? He could not sit back and let his men go out to find his wife without him.

With a sigh, he unrolled the parchment that had been tied to the vial. Opening it, he was surprised to find the letter was from the Queen rather than Elessar.

_'Éomer, King of Rohan,_

_Your sister's letter has left Elessar and I with quite a fair amount of concern for you. While presently we cannot leave our country due to the threat of the Haradrim, we do send you this. My father was well renowned for his talents in the art of Healing, and as such, he passed some of his knowledge to me. Thus, I send you a vial that holds in it a concoction to hopefully help you regain your memory. Take a sip of it each night before you retire until there is no more, and before the end of this season, you shall have your memory back._

_Elessar bade me to tell you to write us with any news you have. I hope your injuries are healing and that perhaps you can visit the white city soon._

_Sincerely,_

_Arwen, Queen of Gondor'_

Setting the letter down, he picked up the vial and studied the liquid. 'It is worth a try..' he thought. With a weary sigh, he set it aside and turned his attentions to the piles of parchment that lay in front of him.

* * *

There was a feast that night in honor of the Royalty from Dol Amroth, though none now felt like celebrating. Long after the dishes had been cleared and the guests had retired, Éowyn found her brother still awake. His long shadow was cast across the hall as he stood by the roaring fire, a glass of whiskey in his hand. Éomer had taken a sip of the Queen's concoction and if it worked even half as bad as it tasted, his memories would come rushing to him in a matter of days.

"It is growing cold; winter shall be upon us soon."

Eowyn stood beside him, her arms crossed over her chest as she looked curiously upon him. Nodding absently, he took another swig of whiskey. "I suppose you and Faramir must be leaving soon."

"Perhaps," Eowyn sat down in one of the chairs facing the fire, her hand absently brushing away the golden strands of her hair.

"May I have a word with you, Éomer?" The siblings turned in surprise to find Prince Imrahil standing quietly away from them, his countenance grave. With a touch to Éomer's arm, Eowyn rose and left the room.

"I understand that this is a difficult time for you," Imrahil began, his hands clasping behind his back as he gazed upon the young king. "And I hope that I am not asking too much."

Éomer bowed his head, his eyes closing. He almost feared what his father in law would say next.

"I wish to take Lothíriel back to Dol Amroth, if not just for the winter. The sea has always been soothing to her, and perhaps being at home will keep her from retreating in to herself, as women have been known to do after such.." He trailed off. Imrahil knew it was unnecessary to remind him.

Several tense moments passed. Éomer lifted his chin, his gaze evenly meeting Imrahil's.

"Whatever is in her best interest, I grant you." He whispered, his voice hoarse. "Winter will be upon us soon, and the healers will not want her to leave for at least a fortnight."

Imrahil nodded and rest a hand upon his son-in-law's shoulder. "You have always been a brave man, Éomer, and you have faced much. I will not let you lose her now, not after everything the two of you have weathered. I have one last request. Will you tell me what has become of this Ernach?"

The two men sat, Éomer's hand gripping his glass subconsciously.

"Lothíriel had escaped, and I took my men to where the village that I knew Ernach and his men were..."

* * *

_Flashback_

As they quietly approached, Éomer felt his stomach tie into a knot of fury. He would find this beast and slaughter him. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword, his muscles tightening with the anticipation of battle. He had sent half his men to surround the village, to be sure that none escaped. Creeping forward, he gave the signal, his men rushing in to kill any that lay in their path.

All about him, swords clashed and men cried out. Éomer's focus was on one thing; the building that had held his Queen captive. He threw open the door to find a bleeding man rising to his feet. He was filthy, his hair in tangled knots and the wild look on his face made Éomer draw his sword.

"Ernach, I presume." His voice was clear, and he pointed his sword at the apparently unarmed man.

"And you would be the horse-lord, the man whose wife I have tasted. She is a pretty catch, though I am sure she will not be able to stomach your touch after she has had mine."

With a savage growl, Éomer lunged forward and knocked Ernach to his back with his fist. Pointing the tip of his sword to the man's neck, he drew it slowly, a thin line of blood appearing. "You beast, you animal! You shall die knowing that you have failed, that a woman bested you! Creatures like you always meet the bitterest of endings." Reaching down to grab his neck, he threw Ernach to the opposite wall, the sound of his crashing limbs bringing an eerie peace to Éomer.

Ernach spat at Éomer as he approached again, his boot landing soundly in the wild man's side. "You deserve a slow death. You have failed, and your kind will always fail when you use such tactics. Even now, as we speak, your men are being killed. Revenge for the harm you have done my wife and my people. Never again will you lead your soulless men in to battle." With a swift stroke, Éomer cut a line down Ernach's chest. He turned to leave, ready to surrender this man to his slow death.

"And what will you do, horse-lord, when your wife birth's my heir?"

Éomer turned, and set his battle glare upon Ernach.

The dunlending never breathed again.

* * *

Imrahil lowered his head, satisfied with the tale. Éomer rose slowly, biding his good night to the Prince.

Lowering himself in to his soft, warm bed, his wife gently turned to him. Lothíriel curled up to him, her small frame fitting perfectly in Éomer's arms.

* * *

Well? Reviews are appreciated. I am sorry at the delay, I meant to write this much sooner, but I've been overcome with excitement because I get to see John Mayer and Maroon5 in concert this coming weekend. And I get to meet them! Squee!

Anyways, I'll have the next chapter up soon.


	9. Seperation

I'd like to thank everyone that helped with getting Lothíriel added to the character list. Hell yeah for us. So be sure, if you have an E/L story and you haven't done so already, add yours to the category! Yay!

And don't forget to review!

* * *

When the company of Dol Amroth set off, it was a cold and dreary day.. Lothíriel was well clothed, a cloak lined with fur wrapped tightly about her as she sat a top her horse, Dior. Glancing over her shoulder, she watched as Edoras slowly disappeared over the horizon and her heart seemed to turn cold. At first she had rejected her father's idea completely. She would not leave her country, and her husband, when both needed her. But, Éomer and Imrahil had insisted she do what was best for her. She would be besieged with duties if she remained in Edoras, even giving her injuries. There was much to do, much to prepare for the fast approaching winter.

Closing her eyes, she felt a tear slip unbidden as she thought over her conversation with her husband.

"My lady," His eyes were strangely hollow as she looked up to him, Éomer's large hands grasping hers lightly. "I ask you to take leave to your country for your own health. The winter will be warmer, the duties less, and you may recover completely in peace. Éowyn has agreed to take over your role for the length of your absence, so there is naught to worry over."

Turning her head away, Lothíriel released a light sigh. Her father had given her the same argument and now, faced with it again, its appeal grew. She did miss the sea, though Rohan was her country now. She did want to heal in her old home, where she could spend time with her brothers and old friends.

"Will you miss me, my Lord?" Her voice was barely a whisper, and Éomer almost did not hear her. Placing a tender kiss to each delicate finger, he bowed his head to her.

"Though my malady keeps me from remembering everything about you, my Queen, I know that I love you. I will miss you terribly. Hopefully, by your return, I shall have regained all that was lost."

Lothíriel smiled at this and kissed him gently upon the cheek.

"If you wish to return, send word to me."

"I shall return, Éomer, and you will receive word." She gave him another smile, and he kissed her palm before walking away.

* * *

She had been gone for two weeks already, and the snows had begun to fall. Éowyn sighed helplessly as she crossed the room to feed the fire, her brother's prone figure stretched out on the bench next to it. He had been drinking more whiskey, sleeping less, and regaining his memory. Éowyn thought it due to the fact that he had been drinking an odd blue mixture as well, but every time she questioned him, she was ignored.

Éowyn had watched him carefully, for with each day and every new memory, he missed Lothíriel more. She, too, missed Faramir for while she had offered to stay to help, he had to return to his duties in Gondor for the King had need of him. So, once more, the siblings were left together.

Éomer was careful in his duties. Apparently, his lack of memory did not change that he was a natural born leader. He worked hard, only stopping when Éowyn absolutely forced him to.

"I miss her, Éowyn." She looked up from the book she had been glancing over to her brother, who sat up so suddenly she thought he might throw up. Éomer was clearly intoxicated.

She gave him an indulging smile and shook her head as he swayed. "She will return."

"Will she?"

With a frustrated sigh, Éowyn shut the book and rose to stand before her older brother. "Yes, she will!"

"But why would she? Return to a barbarian such as myself? I could not protect you from Wormtongue, and I could not protect Lothíriel from Ernach."

"Éomer! I shall not allow such talk. You did protect us, for if not, we both would be dead. Lothíriel loves you, you stubborn old mule, now go pass out in your bed."

* * *

Lothíriel stood on the beaches of Dol Amroth, the cold sand sinking between her toes. It felt heavenly to be back in the port city, and to see the endless sea. The scent, the sound, the feel of it absolutely mesmerized her and she felt as if a weight was lifted from her. Here, she was no Queen. She was a girl who could lie about and relax.

But at night, no peace would come. Often she dreamt of Ernach. Several times she could feel him touching her, or she would see him kill Éomer. Lothíriel would wake and with the smell of his breath still fresh in her memory, her cries would bring Amrothos nearly in hysterics to her room.

She rose each morning with the sun, and she would greet the morning by leaving her rooms and traveling down to the beach. It was cold, but the sun always warmed her as she watched it climb high in to the blue skies. The sound of sea gulls comforted her, and she wrapped her arms around herself.

Her wounds were healed, and none could now tell outwardly that the Queen of the Mark had ever been physically harmed. But those closer to her could tell a subtle distance in her character. She was no longer as carefree, like something had been ripped from her soul and could never be returned. Sometimes, she would grow nervous or agitated when she was around men she did not know.

Amrothos was constantly at her side. The Prince became her protector and her best friend. He desperately tried to pull her out what was fast becoming a shell, and would drag her around the palace trying to rekindle their childhood by placing pranks of their brothers.

It would delight him to no end when she would laugh.

They would take long walks together, down the beach towards where it was uninhabited. There were several places there, coves of rock and lagoons, which had been their favored spots since they were both children.

Three months had passed when the sun shone warmer, and the winds were less biting. They lay stretched out on the beach of a lagoon, Lothíriel enjoying the sun while Amrothos read a book. He turned to her suddenly, the book resting against his legs as he studied her.

"What?" She opened one eye to study him, sand mixing with her freed curls.

"What is it that is missing, Lothíriel? Why are you still not happy?" Amrothos stretched out beside her, his arm propping up his head.

She stirred uneasily and sat up, reaching in to the sac they had brought. Removing a bottle of brandy, she took a rather unladylike swig and passed it to him.

"Éomer.. I miss him. I shall never be fully happy without him at my side. Though I will never be the same, I cannot grow beyond it entirely until I am with my King again."

Amrothos nodded thoughtfully and took a drink. "In a few weeks the snows will have melted completely, and it will be safe and warm enough to journey again. Will you return to Edoras?"

"Yes," Her voice was a whisper and she rose so quickly that sand fell on to Amrothos's face.

Taking it as an opportunity to relieve the tension of the moment, he rose quickly too and tackled her to the sand. They wrestled for a bit, Lothíriel biting her older brother as he tugged at her hair, until something distracted her.

It was a distant sound, and she frowned as she rose. It was pitiful, and her heart wrenched at it. She followed it out of the beach area and into the tall dunes, to the grass that covered the plains.

"What is it?" Amrothos called as he jumped up, following her at his leisure.

She bent over suddenly, falling to her knees as she found the source. It was a small, almost rat looking creature. It was covered in water and sand, and as she scooped it up in the palm of her hand, it meowed.

"You would be the one to find a stray cat, Lothí."

"Oh shut up," She cursed at him as she began to gently wipe the sand away. It was a beautiful black color, and small enough to fit in the palm of her hand. "She is so cute.. I am keeping her." She announced suddenly, tucking the cat gently against her chest to shield her from the cold.

"How do you know it is a she?"

Lothíriel stuck her tongue out at Amrothos as she pushed him over and began to run back up towards Dol Amroth.

* * *

Éomer looked up as the door to his study burst open and his sister stormed in.

"When, exactly, was the last time you went riding?" She shouted, her hands thrown up dramatically. He could only stare at her blankly for the moment, before realizing that she actually wanted an answer.

"I.."

"Exactly. Come, the snows have melted enough, we shall go riding together." He saw the look in Éowyn's eyes, and recognized that there was no arguing at this moment.

And so, an hour later found him riding behind his sister as she tore across the plains, which still held patches of snow, Éomer found himself thinking of Lothíriel. He missed her terribly. With each warmer day, he came to expect a letter more and more. They had written each other a few times, though his time was so filled with matters of state that rarely could he sit down to eat, let alone write her a letter that was worth sending.

He was contemplating her smile, how it absolutely stole his heart, when Firefoot suddenly spooked and reared up. He had accidentally trailed off into a patch of snow and a white rabbit suddenly shot out of the ground and ran, causing his horse's reaction. Because he was so caught off guard, he fell from the saddle and landed roughly on the ground.

"Éomer, Éomer!" Éowyn was beside him when he finally came to, and he felt sickeningly dizzy. As he looked up in to her gaze, something in him triggered, and he could remember staring down on to her face as she lay lifeless on the Pelennor.

He could remember the first time he saw Lothíriel, and the first time he saw her as his wife.

And that memory was so beautiful, that as he shut his eyes and his head swam, he passed out again.

* * *

I would've had this out sooner, but I've been working on a fluffy Éomer/Lothíriel story that I should have up tomorrow.

Though this story is far from over, I would love some input on idea's on what I should do next. If you have one, don't be afraid to email me ( )!

I hope to have another chapter up soon!! Reviews feed my fluff bunnies!


	10. Authors Note I'm Pleading! :

Authors note;

I've hit a wall.. I can't seem to write the next chapter. Now, before you freak out and scream "YOU HAVE TO FINISH IT!" hear me out.

I need a beta reader. :/ I need someone who can give me ideas, read over what I write, and then tell me honestly if it's good or not. I want to finish this story and start on the next, which will be a sort of prequel to this one, but I can't seem to get past writing this chapter. Every time I start, it sucks.

So if you're interested, email me (in the profile.)

Pleeeeeeeeeeease? I'm desperate here!

- E.C.


	11. Wounds

A/N; I want to thank everyone who responded to my plea.. The support was amazing! I did find a beta reader, the very wonderful melian the queen. With her help, this chapter is fifty billion times better than what it started out as.

As for the people who wanted to see Éomer cheat.. I didn't do it in this story, because that would have pushed poor Lothi over the edge! But it is going to be in another story that I'm currently working on. Oh the drama :)

Once again, thanks to everyone, especially melian because she rocks my socks. Enjoy the next chapter!

Disclaimer; The ususal.. If I owned, I would be laying out in Key West drinking margarita's.

* * *

Lothíriel watched as the small amount of belongings that she had brought with her were loaded up again. It was delightfully warm for an early spring morning, and the sun had made a full appearance by the time that the group that would travel to Edoras was prepared. Amrothos had insisted on traveling with his sister and staying with her in Edoras for a month or two -- just to be sure that everything was going to be well after all.

She had sent a letter a day ahead, informing Éomer of her intent to return. But now that the preparations for leaving were finished and all that was left were her goodbyes, she found herself wishing for more time. Lothíriel had spent many hours on the shore, watching the waves roll in and contemplating her predicament. She had been with another man...

When she returned, would things be different? Would he look at her as a whore, a woman no better than the prostitutes of Minas Tirith? Her stomach twisted painfully into a knot. Would he turn from her and in to the arms of another?

These thoughts and more had plagued her for hours, and Amrothos had desperately pleaded with her.

"You are torturing yourself. Éomer is loyal, an honorable man. He would never do such a thing!"

But his words brought no comfort to her.

At length she grew tired of lingering, and she desired Edoras. Lothíriel could no longer put off the inevitable return.

* * *

Éomer stirred. The pain in the back of his head made him groan, and he could hear Éowyn's light laughter at his side.

"Not funny," He mumbled, his hands pressed to cover his eyes. It felt like a bad hangover.

"Rather, it is. That Firefoot would throw you because of a bunny..." He could hear her chuckle, and there was a deeper voice there too. Squinting open one eye, he saw that it was Éothain.

"You laugh as well, Captain?"

"Of course not, my king. I had something in my throat." Éomer rolled his eyes and shut them again.

"How long--"

"Three days, actually. Which I am pleased with. Do not even try to deny to me the number of nights you have avoided sleep since Lothíriel's departure."

Lothíriel.. The name triggered it all, and he shut his eyes again as memories flooded him. In the three days he had slept, he had dreamt of nothing save her. Éomer could clearly remember the first time he had laid eyes upon her when she was busy in the Houses of Healing.

"Lothíriel.."

"Oh please tell me you have not lost your memory again!" Éothain laughed as he looked to the blonde woman beside him, who was now nearly in hysterics.

"No, I remember it all now.." Éomer trailed off, his gaze twisting away from the two at the foot of his bed. He could still feel the first time they kissed...

(Flashback.)

"My lord?"

Éomer's gaze was drawn away from the breathtaking view of the Pelennor to one that was closer to his heart. Lothíriel stood comfortably a foot away from him, and her sea gray eyes enraptured him. She was beautiful, but the moonlight spilling over her made her ethereal in his eyes. The Princess of Dol Amroth glowed with her hair pinned back and a royal blue dress, the color of her home. Éomer suddenly found himself envisioning her as his wife, in a dress of Rohan's green, instead.

"My lady, if you would permit it, I would wish for you to call me Éomer." He wanted to reach out and touch her.

"If you so desire, then I shall, only if you call me Lothíriel." And this agreement brought him happiness, for long had he desired to let her beautiful name roll from his lips.

"Lothíriel.." His voice was a half whisper, and he was drawn to her gaze again. Éomer saw in the light her cheeks flush, and he idly wondered what had happened to the sharp tongued, witty woman who could easily draw a quarrel out of him. He cared not. All he knew was that if he did not kiss her in that moment, he would die. And perhaps if he kissed her, he would die anyway.

To his surprise, she stepped closer, so close that the soft strands of her hair tickled his cheek and he could inhale the scent of lavender. Their lips met halfway, in just the briefest of touches. It set him aflame, and his hands shook with his repressed passion.

Éomer forced himself to lean slightly back, away from her tempting lips. But she moved closer to his warmth, her small frame pressed lightly to his chest as she stood on her toes. Wrapping her slender arms around his shoulders, she let her hand drift through his blonde hair. He leaned forward and took her lips again. He lightly grasped her waist, and Lothíriel's lips were soft and innocent as he deepened the kiss.

The sound of laughter from the patio of the feast hall broke the spell of the night, and they parted. The smile on Lothíriel's face as she bowed her head slightly made Éomer's heart stop. Her cheeks were flushed again, and with one last look to him, she hurried down the path towards the feast.

(/Flashback)

"... I swear brother, from now on; if there is something wrong with you I shall merely hit you upside your head. That seems to just fix everything." Éomer tried to smile for Éowyn, but it would not come. He finally took note of his surroundings, and was happy to find he was in his bed. Their bed. The memory of why she was not with him, however, made his heart run cold. He had failed her horribly.

"Éomer?" He looked up at Éothain before he moved out of the bed.

"I am feeling better now, and I have been neglecting my people. I think I shall go to a tavern tonight."

Éowyn and Éothain exchanged looks before trying to talk.

"Do not be foolish, Éomer! You are still unwell, you need to be resting."

He glared, and Éowyn realized that this was a battle lost. "I feel fine, and three days abed is plenty of rest. Please, leave. Éothain, if you wish to go with me, give me an hour to prepare." Éothain gave a short bow and glanced to Éowyn again before he departed. She hesitated, but a frown came to her features and she chose to storm out instead.

Éowyn slammed the door behind her, and nearly ran to her study. He was such a stubborn ass! Sinking in to the chair behind her desk, she began to sort through the mail that had been delivered. There were several letters from noblemen who were friends of Éomer's, a letter from the King and Queen of Gondor, and before she could get to the last one, she saw a familiar handwriting that made her heart skip a beat. Éowyn missed her husband, and because of the skirmishes between Gondor and Harad, he had been unable to visit her. She eagerly wanted Lothíriel to return, not only for the sake of her brother and Rohan, but because her return meant Éowyn would be able to be with her husband once more. Leaving the others on her desk, she took Faramir's letter with her as she retired to her chambers.

When Éomer stepped out of his chambers, Éothain and Gamling were awaiting him. They gave him a brave smile, for the look in his eyes told them that they would most likely have to carry their liege back to his chambers before the night was over. He had a bad habit of drinking hard when something troubled him, and his marital problems were no secret amongst his captains.

"Come, I look forward to being amongst my people again."

* * *

Lothíriel watched as the sun sank. She and Amrothos had stayed closely with the five guards who came to escort them, and they would not be stopping this night. They were only a few hours from sight of Edoras, and she was too eager to be back in the Golden Hall. The guards simply looked forward to a soft bed and warm meal. She had found it odd that they had not been greeted by Rohirrim guards, who normally would have come to escort them. 'Have they not gotten my letter?' She frowned at the thought. Or had Éomer ignored it, hoping that she would never return?

Amrothos reached across from his horse to grasp her hand. "Do not look so worried, darling, I promise all will be fine." Lothíriel tried to smile, but found that the worry that weighed her heart down would not allow her. As they moved across the plains, she felt her heart would not beat again until she laid eyes upon Edoras and her husband.

* * *

"Éomer, how much have you had to drink now..?" Gamling helped his friend, who was laughing at some tavern wench's crude joke, stand. When Éomer mumbled an incoherent response, Éothain stood and put an arm around the king's side to help Gamling escort him from the tavern. They stumbled through the streets, Éomer loudly singing a rather crude song in Rohirric, which made several of the guards nearly choke on their laughter.

And then he stopped, and a panicked look crossed over his face as he pulled away from Gamling and Éothain.

"Do not let Éowyn in to my chambers!" Éomer swayed as he spoke, and Éothain grabbed his shoulder to keep him from toppling over. "She will kill me, Éothain, I swear it. Or she will force me to drink tea and tell her how I feel."

Gamling laughed loudly at that. With Éowyn's prolonged stay, the Captains had come to fear her. If they were caught in the hall late, drinking anything, then she would confront them thinking that something ailed them. Tea drinking ensued.

"Not to worry, my lord, we shall see that you are safely put to bed." Éothain chuckled as they resumed the slow walk towards the Hall.

* * *

Faramir allowed his horse to trot as he caught up with Lothíriel. As he regarded her, it always amazed him how much she resembled her mother. While Lothíriel had never known her mother, who had died in childbirth, Faramir had always been close with his Aunt Larauth.

Lothíriel gave him a small smile before they both turned to look before them, to the looming sight of Edoras. Elessar and Arwen had nearly thrown Faramir out of the Citadel with the command to ride to Edoras and retrieve his wife. He could return with the party from Dol Amroth, as well as enjoy a rest from his busy winter. Spring was slowly approaching.

"Are you worried?" He glanced back to his cousin, who had been unusually quiet. He had seen a change in her since her rape. Amrothos had told him that at first, she had spent many hours in Dol Amroth crying, and she slept and ate very little. Lothíriel had always seemed to have an eternal youth about her, which could probably be attributed to the legendary line of elves that the Royal House of Dol Amroth had supposedly descended from. Now, though, she had hardened herself, and no longer was she the laughing girl who would nearly knock her brothers or cousins over with hugs. She was quiet, as if she had retreated into herself. Faramir and Amrothos could only hope that when she was reunited with Éomer, she would regain some of what she once was.

"A little.." She glanced at him before looking back to Edoras, where they could see the bright lights of homes and the glow of the Golden Hall.

Faramir frowned, "He loves you deeply, cousin. You should not doubt that." But she would not respond. Lothíriel simply bowed her head.

Amrothos rode up beside them. "I am going to ride ahead." With a small grin, he spurred his horse on so that he took off across the plains.

* * *

The guards at the entrance to the Golden Hall watched with silent amusement as their two captains helped usher the incredibly drunk King up the steps. Opening the doors for them, Éothain gave each a nod and a warning look.

Gamling stopped when he heard the sound of a lone rider approaching Meduseld, and he turned to walk back outside as Éothain continued to drag the King.

The figure drew his horse to a halt by the steps, and a guard stepped forward but instantly was handed the reins and sent to the stables. Gamling recognized the figure of Amrothos easily.

"My Lord Prince, what--?"

"Where is my brother in law, and Lady Éowyn?" He frowned as he mounted the steps and came face to face with the captain.

"We had no news of your coming," Gamling frowned and turned to one of the guards, ordering him to find a servant to wake Éowyn.

"My sister and cousin are perhaps two hours behind me, with a small escort from Dol Amroth."

"The queen returns?" Gamling brightened while Amrothos' frown increased.

"Of course she returns! Why would she not? Are there doubters?"

"The King was disheartened when he received no letters from her.." Gamling nearly groaned. The king! He was more than likely passed out cold in his drunken state, and the queen would be here in a matter of time.

"And where is the king now?" Amrothos brushed past Gamling, who was in a near panic.

"He has consumed too much drink this eve and no doubt is passed out by now."

Amrothos chuckled lightly as he strode down the hallway towards the royal chambers. He had no doubts as to how much the king had consumed, for he had lost to Éomer in drinking matches several times.

"There is something else that you should know, my lord." Gamling's words halted him.

"And that is?"

"He has regained his memories."

Éowyn stood on the steps of Meduseld, where she could watch her husbands approaching form. She had to restrain herself from flying down the steps and into his arms as he dismounted from his horse. Lothíriel was at his side, and it warmed her heart to see her sister in law. After all, her brother had been stubborn enough to think that she would not return!

As he walked up the steps, Éowyn could no longer contain it. She flew down them and met him half way, his arms opening wide to catch her as she nearly leapt into his arms.

Lothíriel shied away from their happy reunion and continued up the steps, her body aching with the fatigue of a long journey. The guards bowed, and her brother met her in the doorway.

"Come," he whispered, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She was confused, and incredibly disappointed that her husband had not been there waiting to welcome her with open arms. But what more could she expect?

Amrothos lead her to the royal chambers, and she hesitated when she came to the door. Surely Éomer was in there, in bed and asleep. Why should she, his unfaithful wife, disturb him?

"Darling, your husband has regained his memories.. How can you think he would turn from you?" Amrothos held her by the shoulders, forcing her to look into his eyes. "At the moment, he is passed out. Éothain explained to me that the king has been drinking quite a bit since you left, and tonight he over did it. So, you are going to go in there and crawl under the covers with your husband and deal with him -- and his hangover -- in the morning." She opened her mouth to argue, to plead to have another room, but the door was opened and she was thrust in before a breath could even escape.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of one candle, and she cautiously crossed the room to where the bed sat upon a dais. Her husband lay in the middle, curled up on his side with his hair splayed on the pillow. She wanted to reach out and run her fingers through the spun gold, but she was terrified of what the reaction to her touch would be. Would he be repulsed by her or simply indifferent? With a resigned sigh, she turned to the tall dresser which held her clothing and removed a night shift. Changing quickly, she slipped in to the bed, as far away from Éomer as she could possibly be.

* * *

Don't forget to review!


	12. Authors Note 2

Sigh. -Ducks from the ensuing round of rotten tomatoes and other various veggies.- Please forgive me! There are no good excuses so I'll just give you this; between my last update and now, I met someone, fell in love, and had my heart broken. So as you can see it's been a very.. eventful.. few months.

Anyway, don't worry about me. I'm fine, because it really was a situation that was completely out of our hands. But that's a whole different subject and I won't bore you with it here. But! Not only did it inspire a new round of stories for me (a few feature our beloved Eomer and Lothiriel!) but it kind of gave me the drive to finish this story.

So, this little note is to let you wonderful people know that I have not given up on this story. I've got the next chapter finished and I hope to have it out within the next few days. I have to, or I'll lose all my time again. I start school on the 31st. Eee.

Anyway, I love you guys! And I am really, really, REALLY sorry.

Elegant Couture


	13. Reunion

Wow! It took me almost a year to put this update up.. Isn't that really sad? To be honest, I had the rest of this typed out and on my computer which crashed a week later. So that's one excuse. The other one is just life. I'm sorry! I want to finish this one (which will probably be in the next chapter or two) so that I can move on to others. I'm also planning on going back andrevisingthis story as well. It needs a lot of work, I think. ButI want to do a series of Lothi/Éomer one shots, and for those of you who've seen The Notebook I'm doing a piece on Allie and Noah after they get back together. So be looking for all that!

Now, please don't forget to review!

The bed seemed bigger, and consequently, she felt smaller. Laying next to Éomer and not being able to reach out to him was a painful reminder of the distance that had literally and figuratively separated them over the past months.

Lothíriel rolled away from him, her eyes closing as begged sleep to take her. Why was this so difficult? During her recovery, all she had wanted was him. And now? She felt awkward and shy, and the man was not even awake yet! How would she handle this when he awoke to find her in his bed next to her? She thought of her time at home, of the simple images of her husband that helped strengthen her weak state. She prayed that their love would be enough to make them both whole again, after everything that had happened. As sleep began to gently tug on her eyes, she was reminded of an encounter that had strengthened her resolve..

FLASHBACK

"It will do you much good to get out of Dol Amroth and stretch your legs.. Perhaps your cousins spirits will lift yours! I know that he shall be in Minas Tirith as well." Her fathers argument for her to accompany him to the city had worked and she reluctantly agreed to go. A few days later found her being greeted by the King and Queen.

Very rarely did she actually come up close with King Elessar and Queen Arwen, which was why she was so surprised when a messenger arrived the day after and said that the Queen requested her audience. In all honesty, Lothíriel was intimidated by the Elven Queen's beauty and grace but, with no pressing arrangements to stop her, she agreed. An hour later found her in the Queen's private sitting chambers.

"Thank you," Arwen smiled, politely dismissing the servant that had lead Rohan's Queen to her chambers. "I am glad that you could make it, I feared that perhaps we would both be too busy on your short stay here to be able to talk." Lothíriel frowned. As much as she appreciated and was flattered by the Queen's attention, it somewhat puzzled her.

"I fear, My Lady, that I do not follow you."

"Lothíriel, I would dearly wish for you to call me Arwen. We are the Queen's of near-brothers and countries that are allies, and I would like it if we could be friendly with one another."

"Of course."

"I must be frank, I know that it was not the cold weather nor any serious physical ailment that chased you out of Rohan," as she said the words that froze Lothíriel's heart, Arwen was calmly pouring her a cup of tea. "Please forgive myself and Faramir, for I inquired and the tale he told me was not one I believed. Only Elessar and myself know."

She wanted to be sick. A woman she much admired now knew how weak and pathetic she truly was. Many more negative thoughts flew through her mind as she looked cautiously up at Arwen, one hand automatically taking the offered cup of tea. "My Lady.. Arwen.."

"Please, let me speak. I want you to know that it was not your fault. I know your strength, Lothíriel, and I can see your grace. Your elven lineage flows brightly through you, and I fear you underestimate your abilities to overcome." Lothíriel could only sip her tea in silence.

"It was I who suggested that Éomer and you were in love before even you were aware of it. One afternoon, I came upon you two arguing passionately about something in the gardens. I was so caught of guard by the look in each others eyes that I could not even alert you to my presence, but instead I watched you.. If only for a moment. You compliment each other, he the day and you the night. Your personalities are similar and yet different enough to balance perfectly. And despite the great tragedy that has befallen you two, you will overcome it to prove even more perfectly connected than before. I know you may not believe me at first, but in time you shall. Yours will be a long and happy reign."

Only a few weeks later, Lothíriel was journeying towards Rohan.

END FLASHBACK

Éomer rolled over, stretching his arm out and quickly froze. Had he imagined his fingers brushing against something warm? Moving his hand again, he felt the distinct touch of soft skin beneath his finger tips and knew it was undeniable, there was a person in bed with him. Panicked, he thought back to the previous night. Sure, he had been extremely drunk last night, but not drunk enough to bring a woman back to his marital bed. And even if he had, Eothain would have stopped him. Licking his suddenly dry lips, he forced open his eyes.

It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Lothíriel lay on her side, facing him, with her hand gently tucked under her cheek. His hand had come to rest on her arm, and unconsciously he caressed the warm skin there. The sun was coming through the window and framed her in a way that gave her an ethereal glow.

Raising his hand, he gently caressed her cheek and moved closer to her. Her eyes opened and met his, and in a moment, they were pressed together. "Lothíriel…" She raised her lips to his, and his hand tangled in the mess of warm black curls.

"My Lord."

He ignored the simple voice and rolled over, desperately fighting as the dream began to disappear, leaving him with the excruciating pain of a hang over.

"My Lord?"

"What?" Éomer's voice was little more than a grunt as he squinted. The servant had opened the curtains, and the bright sunlight felt like daggers to his head.

"Lady Éowyn bid me to bring you breakfast and to make sure you were awake."

"Thank you, please leave it on the table," the servant did as she was told and took it as a dismissal.

Éomer rolled over and looked at the empty bed next to him. The deep melancholy that stirred in him was a reminder that the dream he had just experienced was likely to never happen again. He had never been a man of much luck, and this was just further proof of it. Forcing himself out of bed, Éomer knew that it would do him no good to linger in bed and dwell on things that would only make him miserable. That was what he saved for the precious hours of sleep he got, where his wife's face haunted him.

Taking a seat at the table that also served as a private dinner table should it be needed, he looked over the small breakfast. Éowyn must have heard of his adventures last night and ordered a breakfast that would be the only thing he could stomach. Two pieces of toast, a small bowl of fruit, a glass of water, and a cup of what he suspected was strong coffee.

As he sat and ate, he looked out the window, studying the day. He was surprised to find that it was later than he usually slept, and even though spring was well on its way, another layer of snow had fallen.

After having his breakfast and his morning wash, he left his chambers and headed towards the main hall. Surely he would find Éowyn there, busy with whatever it was that kept her entertained during the days. He was surprised when he found that many had gathered in the Great Hall, each obviously busy with some task. It was more hustle and bustle than normal.

"There you are, sleeping beauty." Turning his head, he found that his sister had appeared at his side from seemingly no where, and he forced a glare in her direction.

"Funny.. What is this all about?"

Éowyn started a bit, a frown coming across her face. "Well, one thing would be the up coming spring festival. We will also be having a banquet the evening before that to celebrate the return of the Queen. Your advisors have been given a break till after the Spring Solstice to be with their families and do any repairs to their homes that the winter might have done." She almost delighted in the look of shock that crossed his face.

"Lothíriel has returned..?"

"Yes, and had you not slept so late, you would have woken to find her in your bed."

"Where is she now?"

It was at that moment that Lothíriel entered with Amrothos in tow. The King and Queen both paused in what they were doing and could only stare. It felt like it was the first time she had seen him, and her heart immediately raced. And for the first time in months, she wanted to be touched. She wanted to be held, kissed, and touched by Éomer.

He couldn't stop himself. She was breathtaking. Her hair was pulled back into a bun, and the cold wind outside had whipped a few strands loose and color into her cheeks. His body's reaction was strong and he felt pulled to her like a moth to a flame, and before he had the time to realize it, he was crossing the space between them.

Gently taking her hand, which he was surprised to find was shaking slightly, he bowed over it and placed a kiss on her knuckles. "I was quite pleased to hear of your return, My Queen, and regret that I could not personally welcome you home when you arrived last night." Straightening up, her looked straight in the eye. "I trust that your time spent at Dol Amroth was pleasant and your journey back safe?"

Those closest to the royal couple knew what a tame and somewhat stiff reunion it was. "It was quite late when we arrived, so I was not surprised to find you asleep and did not dare try to wake you. And yes, it was quite therapeutic and the journey was fine." She regretted the moment he released her hand and turned his gaze to Amrothos to make his polite welcoming as well. There had been a look in his eyes that told her everything - he loved her, he wanted her, he needed her but she would have to come to him. It was out of respect to all that she had been through and that he would not dare rush her.

"If you will excuse me.." He turned and walked out of the hall without further words, and she hesitated. Lothíriel badly wanted to follow him, to talk to him. But she needed to get her footing.


End file.
